By the time Xu Chen reached the hotel, the sky had already dimmed into evening.
The walk back felt longer than it should have. His steps were steady, but there was no urgency left in them. Whatever energy had pushed him to search, to look, to hope—it had worn itself out by the time the sun began to set.
What remained was a quiet heaviness.
He stepped into the lobby.
The lights were warm, almost too bright against the dullness in his eyes. A few people sat scattered across the seating area, soft conversations blending into the background. Everything looked ordinary.
It felt distant.
Xu Chen walked past the reception without looking up. His mind was still somewhere else—by the lake, by that empty chair, by everything he had understood too late.
He just wanted to reach his room.
Close the door.
Sit in silence.
"Sir…"
The voice came from the reception desk.
Polite. Casual.
Xu Chen slowed down, but didn't stop immediately.
"…yes?"
His response came delayed, like he had to pull himself back into the present to answer.
"There's someone waiting for you."
Xu Chen frowned slightly.
The words didn't register fully at first. He turned, almost absent-mindedly, his gaze shifting toward the seating area without much expectation.
And then—
he saw him.
Aum.
Sitting on the couch.
Leaning slightly to one side, his head resting against the back, eyes closed.
Asleep.
For a moment, Xu Chen didn't move.
His body stilled completely, as if everything inside him had paused at once.
It didn't make sense.
Not after everything.
Not after the silence.
Not after the understanding that had settled so heavily inside him.
His chest tightened suddenly, but this time it felt different. Sharper. Immediate. His breath caught halfway, refusing to complete itself.
His eyes stayed fixed on Aum.
Taking in every detail.
The slight crease on his forehead.
The small bandage just above his brow.
Faint scratches along his hand.
Real.
Not imagined.
Xu Chen's fingers twitched slightly at his side.
Then his feet moved.
Fast.
The distance between them closed in seconds.
"Aum—"
The name came out broken, breathless.
He didn't stop to think.
Didn't stop to question.
His hands reached forward and pulled Aum into him.
Tight.
Stronger than he intended.
Stronger than he realized.
Aum stirred suddenly, his body tensing for a brief second before his eyes opened.
Confusion flickered across his face, still caught between sleep and awareness.
"Xu… Chen?"
But Xu Chen didn't respond immediately.
His arms stayed around him, firm, almost desperate, as if letting go was not an option anymore.
His breath was uneven, close to Aum's shoulder, warm and unsteady.
"Where did you go…"
The words came out low, strained, almost swallowed halfway.
"Do you even know—"
He stopped.
His voice failed him.
Too many things wanted to come out at once.
None of them fully formed.
Aum blinked, still trying to understand.
"I had stepped out," he said quietly, his voice calm, steady as always.
Xu Chen pulled back just enough to look at him.
His hands still held onto Aum's shoulders, firm, like he needed to make sure he was actually there.
"Stepped out?" His voice rose slightly, disbelief creeping in. "Without telling me? Without your phone?"
Aum's gaze shifted briefly, as if processing the question.
"I did not consider it necessary at the time."
Xu Chen let out a short breath, something between frustration and relief.
"Not necessary?" he repeated, his grip tightening slightly. "You disappear for hours, leave your phone behind, and you think it's not necessary?"
Aum watched him quietly.
There was no defensiveness in his expression. Only observation.
"I intended to return," he said simply.
"That's not the point," Xu Chen's voice came quicker now, sharper, the emotions he had been holding back finally finding a way out. "You don't just walk off like that. You don't just—"
He stopped again.
His chest rose and fell unevenly.
"You don't understand what that looked like," he continued, his voice lower now, but no less intense. "I looked everywhere. I thought—"
He didn't finish.
The thought stayed there, unfinished, but clear.
Aum's eyes softened slightly.
"I apologize," he said, the words steady, but quieter than before. "That was not my intention."
Xu Chen shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Intention doesn't change what happens," he muttered.
His gaze dropped briefly to the bandage on Aum's forehead.
"What happened here?" he asked suddenly.
"A minor accident," Aum replied. "A vehicle made contact. The damage is negligible."
Xu Chen froze for a second.
"A vehicle hit you?"
"The impact was not severe."
"That's not the point!" Xu Chen's voice rose again, sharper this time. "You got hit by a car and you're telling me it's negligible?"
Aum tilted his head slightly, as if considering that reaction.
"I am functional," he said.
Xu Chen let out a breath, frustrated, exhausted, overwhelmed.
"Unbelievable…"
Without waiting further, he placed a firm hand on Aum's shoulder and guided him up.
"Come on."
"I am capable of walking independently," Aum said as he stood.
"I know," Xu Chen replied quickly. "That's not why I'm doing this."
His hand didn't leave Aum's shoulder.
They moved toward the elevator in silence.
The space between them felt different now.
Closer.
Tighter.
Xu Chen's grip remained steady, as if releasing it would undo something he wasn't ready to risk again.
Inside the room, the lights came on with a soft click.
Xu Chen finally let go.
But only to turn and face Aum fully.
"Start talking."
The words came out firm.
"Where did you go? Why did you leave without telling me? Why didn't you take your phone? What were you even thinking?"
The questions came one after another, barely leaving space in between.
Aum stood there, listening.
Patient.
Calm.
Xu Chen didn't wait for answers.
"Do you even realize what that did?" he continued, his voice unsteady now, slipping between frustration and something deeper. "You just disappeared. No message. No call. Nothing."
Aum's gaze remained fixed on him.
"I assessed—"
"Don't assess," Xu Chen cut him off immediately. "Just answer."
Silence followed for a second.
Aum inhaled slowly, as if organizing his thoughts.
"I went out to understand whether I could function independently," he said finally. "If I am to remain here, reliance on you is not a sustainable solution."
The words landed between them.
Xu Chen stared at him.
For a moment, he didn't respond.
Then something shifted in his expression.
"You think this is about dependence?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but heavier.
Aum didn't answer immediately.
Xu Chen let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping slightly.
"That's not what this is," he said.
A pause.
His eyes stayed on Aum.
"You don't just disappear like that."
His voice lowered further.
"You don't leave without saying anything."
The words weren't as sharp now.
They carried something else.
Aum watched him closely.
Xu Chen's chest rose and fell slowly, as if he was trying to steady himself.
"You could have just told me," he added, quieter this time.
Silence settled again.
Aum remained still, taking in every word.
Waiting.
For the moment when Xu Chen would finally stop speaking—
and give him the chance to respond.