I fidget nervously with the hem of my sleeve, standing outside the address he provided. The street is quiet, illuminated only by the dim glow of streetlights and the 24-hour convenience store across the way. My heart pounds in my chest as I consider turning back—what if this was a mistake? What if meeting in person ruins everything we've built online?

Taking a deep breath, I finally raise my hand and knock three times. The sound echoes in the silent night. After a long moment, the door opens a crack, and I see his face partially illuminated by the warm light from inside.

"You are...?" he asks, his voice just as deep and attractive as it sounded in the voice messages he occasionally sent.

I feel my face flush. "I'm..." I hesitate, suddenly embarrassed to say my online name out loud. "Zhang Xin. We've been talking online."

The door swings open wider, and he stands fully revealed in the doorway, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Zhang Xin," he repeats, pronouncing my name perfectly. "I'm Xing Jia. Come in, it's cold outside."

As I step past him into the apartment, I'm immediately struck by how warm it is compared to the night air. The space is cozy and clearly lived-in, with books stacked beside the sofa and a record player in the corner. Before I can fully take it in, his golden retriever pads over and sits at my feet, tongue lolling happily.

"He seems to like you," Xing Jia observes, closing the door behind me.

I smile shyly and reach down to pet the dog, feeling the tension begin to ease slightly. "I... I didn't expect you to actually want to meet me," I admit, keeping my eyes on the dog to avoid his gaze.

"Why wouldn't I?" His voice is closer than I expected. When I look up, he's standing directly in front of me, our bodies separated by only a few inches. "I've enjoyed our conversations more than anything these past months."

His eyes search mine, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. There's an intensity in his gaze that I've never experienced from anyone before—like he's seeing straight through to the parts of me I've kept hidden even from myself.

Before I can respond, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek lightly. A shiver runs down my spine at his touch.

"You're even more beautiful than your pictures suggested," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a whisper.

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. All I can think about is how close he is, how warm his body feels despite the distance between us, how much I want him to touch me again.

He seems to sense my hesitation and takes a small step back, giving me space. "I made noodles," he says, gesturing toward the kitchen. "You must be hungry after your rehearsal."

I nod, grateful for the reprieve from the intense moment between us, but also disappointed by the loss of his proximity. As I follow him toward the kitchen, I can't help but wonder what exactly I've gotten myself into—and whether I'll ever be able to go back to my lonely life once I've experienced whatever Xing Jia is offering.