Wu Suo Wei's POV
When I opened my eyes, everything felt... unreal.
My cheek was warm against bare skin. The steady thump of Chi Cheng's heartbeat echoed in my ear. His arm was still wrapped protectively around me, holding me close even in sleep.
For a moment, I just laid there, unmoving, afraid that if I shifted even slightly, this whole dream would shatter into morning.
But it was morning.
I could tell by the soft golden light peeking in through the curtain. The kind of light that always made our apartment feel like home.
And this... this was real.
We'd done it. Last night, after everything—he held me. Kissed me. Loved me.
My heart beat so loud it almost hurt.
I looked up at him.
His face was so peaceful when he slept, his usual cool exterior melted into something soft and boyish. The faintest crease still rested between his brows like even now, he was worried about something. Probably about me.
I reached up and touched his face, gently.
"Chi Cheng..." I whispered.
He didn't move.
I kissed his chin, then his jaw. "Gege..."
He groaned a little, eyes fluttering open. They landed on me and softened instantly. That sleepy, husky voice of his rumbled low.
"...Da Bao."
My cheeks burned.
He hadn't called me that in so long.
"You remember?" I asked, barely breathing.
He smiled. A small, private smile meant only for me. "I never forgot."
I felt tears press at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away quickly. I didn't want to cry. Not now. Not when I was wrapped in the arms of the boy I'd loved for so long.
He pulled me closer. His lips found my forehead, then the tip of my nose. "Are you okay?"
I nodded against his chest. "Are you okay?"
He chuckled. "I've never been better."
We lay there in silence for a while. Our legs tangled, our fingers lazily intertwined beneath the sheets. The night had been intense, hungry, raw, and full of emotion. But this morning...
This was something else entirely.
Safe. Warm. Ours.
"I thought you hated me sometimes," I whispered.
He tightened his grip on me. "I've never hated you. I hated how much I wanted you. How scared I was that if I touched you, I'd never be able to stop."
"You don't have to stop," I said quietly.
He looked at me.
"I'm already yours," I added. "Always was."
He kissed me then–slow, sweet, and full of things I didn't need him to say out loud. Because I already knew.
And maybe the world still didn't understand us. Maybe they never would.
But as long as I had him, none of that mattered.