YiJun is heaven's most ruthless weapon, until the day he falls, and then he keeps falling.
How low can an Archangel fall, to protect that which is most precious to him?
Can he win the heart of the one for whom he chose to rebel or will the very thin...
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YiJun's POV
I feel like I am going crazy. Maybe nineteen years away from my home, my family has finally started taking a toll on me.
Why else would I keep feeling like Xian wants me, the way I want him.
I think I am losing my mind.
I must stop before I do something that will make him hate me.
I step back and trip over an ingredient that I must have unceremoniously dropped while my baking adventures. And am, therefore, not surprised when my behind blesses the floor.
Xian Laughs.
Maybe I should fall more often.
Teasing me, he holds out his hand. As expected, children never let the mistakes made by adults, slide. Xian is no different.
'I am not a child anymore, Jun.' Xian's words come to my mind and I shake my head. As I take his hand and stand up, I am once again reminded of the fact that Xian is almost a man now... an adult.
Will you leave me now, Xian?
Will you not ask me to sleep with you anymore, now that you have someone else?
I thank him and tell him that I was going to call him after cleaning the mess, and he chuckles like he doesn't think that I am capable of cleaning up after myself.
He is not exactly wrong.
He gives me a once over, and walks closer. I try to step away, but he is faster; holding my wrist, he commands me to stay still. And just like the night before, I find it impossible to refuse him. I comply. I stand still. I go a step further and hold my breath as well.
He leans in, invading my space, and gently tugs at a few strands of my hair, "I wonder if I search some more... would I also find a chick in there somewhere." He teases, pulling out a small piece of eggshell from my strands and I almost smile.
I had intended to surprise him with a beautiful cake, but now with the way the cake has turned out, and the element of surprise lost, I ask him if he still wants to celebrate his birthday the way we usually do.
He nods and requests me to light a candle. After complying, I ask him to make a wish, but instead, he enquires, "I will, but first I need to know if this wish will be taken out of the four you promised me last night?"
Childlike... manipulative... Mine.
I can't stop myself from laughing. I don't know why I am laughing though, his question is not funny.
An urge to touch him makes me run my fingers through his soft silky hair.
It's my turn to tease, "Someone's being greedy." I say, trying to camouflage my greed; my desire for the boy in front of me as mear jest; as mischief; as something innocent.
