The hotel room feels suddenly too small as Tian Xuning stands before me, his earlier confidence replaced by vulnerability. The tension from the misunderstanding still hangs in the air, thick and heavy. My phone lies forgotten on the bed between us, the evidence of his jealousy and my innocent explanation glowing dimly on the screen.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," he says, running a hand through his hair. The dim lighting casts shadows across his face, making him look younger, softer. "I just... the thought of you seeing someone else..."

He doesn't finish the sentence, but I feel it anyway—the raw emotion in his voice, the way his hands tremble slightly at his sides, the longing in his eyes as they trace the outline of my mouth. Every part of me remembers his touch throughout the day—lingering on my waist during rehearsal, brushing against my thigh at lunch, the way he fed me tofu with his own chopsticks, his gaze never leaving my lips.

Now we're alone, no cameras, no crew, no pretense of acting. Just two men and the truth neither has fully acknowledged until this moment. The heat rises in my cheeks as I realize how close we're standing, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, to smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat of the day's filming.

"Ge..." I whisper, the honorific falling naturally from my lips as it always does when we're off camera.

He takes one step closer, closing the remaining distance between us, and I can feel his breath against my face. His hand lifts, hesitates, then gently cups my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. My eyes flutter closed instinctively, leaning into his touch, my body betraying the desires my mind has tried to suppress.

When I open my eyes again, his face is just inches from mine, his pupils dilated with desire. The line between Wu Suowei and myself has never felt thinner, the boundaries between character and reality dissolving in the intensity of this moment.