The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Qiu Dingjie's sleeping face. I trace the outline of his features with my eyes, memorizing every curve and shadow—the same ones I've drawn a hundred times but never completed. After last night, everything has changed. The way he kissed me... the way we touched each other... I can still feel the ghost of his skin against mine.

He stirs, those bright eyes fluttering open, and immediately finds mine. A slow, warm smile spreads across his face—the same smile I've been afraid to commit to paper, afraid that capturing it would make it disappear.

"Morning, Xingxing," he says, voice still rough with sleep. He shifts closer under the sheets, the movement revealing a glimpse of skin where his shirt has ridden up. My breath catches.

Last night wasn't a dream. The truth hangs between us now, tangible as the sunlight. We're both different, both carrying the same secret that has isolated us for so long. But together, that secret has become something else—something that binds us rather than separates us.

He reaches a hand toward me, his expression soft but eyes burning with an intensity that makes my heart race.