Chapter Two

The night retained its last trace of tranquility, the sky still veiled in a thin, grayish-blue. Yuzuru was awakened by the force gripping her waist. The hand was large and warm, with an inescapable presence. She subconsciously twisted her body, and as she turned over, she was met with a peaceful sleeping face.

Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings over her eyelids, her nose was high and straight, and her lips were as soft as if they had been blurred by morning mist. Even her breathing was even and shallow. Yuzuru's heart skipped a beat, and a soft exclamation welled up inside him—so beautiful.

The fingertips seemed to have a mind of their own, gently lifting up and slowly tracing the contours of his forehead, brow bone, and cheeks, the touch incredibly delicate. Finally, the fingertip inadvertently brushed across the tip of his nose, and as if possessed, lightly touched it.

In that instant, Yuzuru seemed to be frozen in place, as if under a spell.

Then, she met a pair of eyes that had suddenly opened. The iris-purple pupils still held a hint of confusion from just waking up, which quickly dissipated into a faint, almost imperceptible, playful glint, like a lurking hunter finally catching its prey that had walked right into its trap.

Before Yuzuru could retract his hand, he firmly grasped the mischievous little hand. The next second, the force suddenly tightened, and she was abruptly pressed down beneath him, a shadow falling over her head. His head buried itself in her neck, his warm lips gently tracing patterns on her delicate skin, bringing a light tickle.

Yuzuru trembled slightly, his voice barely audible: "I didn't mean to."

Yukimura chuckled softly, the vibrations of his chest transmitting through their skin, carrying a reassuring warmth. He lay back down, pulling her tightly into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head: "It's still early, sleep a little longer."

When he opened his eyes again, the sky outside the window was already bright, and sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting dappled shadows on the floor. Yuzuru finished washing up and walked out of the bedroom, just in time to see Yukimura coming out of another bathroom. His bangs were still damp, and water droplets slid down his jawline, giving off a refreshing mist.

He gently wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his fingertips tracing a light circle around her waist before releasing her hand and naturally taking hers in his: "Let's go downstairs for breakfast."

The aroma of breakfast still lingered in their noses. After the meal, the two went out hand in hand, walking briskly towards the nearby supermarket. The cold wind swirled fine snowflakes across their cheeks. Yuzuru buried half his face in his thick scarf, revealing only his bright eyes, and followed closely behind Yukimura's steps.

"Aren't you going to training today?" Her voice sounded muffled through her scarf.

"It starts this afternoon, Momozawa." He turned his head, his iris-purple eyes appearing exceptionally soft in the sunlight.

"Ah, I see." Yuzuru nodded.

“Yes, that’s right.” Yukimura suddenly mimicked her tone, his voice rising slightly at the end, with a hint of mischievousness in his imitation.

Yuzuru immediately understood, stopped and glared at him, her cheeks flushed slightly from the stifling feeling. Yukimura chuckled, gently put his arm around her shoulder, and took her left hand, his fingertips intertwining with hers, as they continued walking forward: "Let's go, don't get cold."

The supermarket was warm and inviting, with shelves overflowing with a dazzling array of goods. Yuzuru pushed the shopping cart, occasionally picking up a few items and putting them in. Suddenly remembering something, he looked up and asked, "Do they have any dietary restrictions, Yukimura?"

"No, not yet." He picked up a carton of milk and put it in the car, his gaze sweeping over the snack shelf not far away, precisely catching someone's eager look.

The two strolled around, browsing and selecting items, the warm yellow light bathing them, the air filled with the cozy atmosphere of everyday life. Taking advantage of Yukimura's inattention, Yuzuru secretly picked up a bag of cucumber-flavored potato chips, about to put it in the car, when his wrist was gently pressed down.

"You can't take any more snacks, Momozawa." Yukimura's voice was gentle and left no room for argument.

"Just take this bag, okay?" Yuzuru pursed his lips, looking at him with bright, sparkling eyes, a hint of coquettishness in his voice.

"No, that's not possible. There are already too many." He shook his head, his tone firm.

Yuzuru pursed his lips, reluctantly put the potato chips back on the shelf, and followed Yukimura to the checkout counter, glancing back every few steps. After paying, the two of them, carrying heavy shopping bags, walked out of the supermarket side by side.

After lunch, the sun shone brightly, and the two spent time together in the studio. Yukimura sat to one side, sketching, while Hanyu picked up his brush and meticulously depicted light and shadow on the canvas. In the quiet space, only the soft rustling of the brush against the canvas could be heard, and time passed exceptionally peacefully.

When it was time for afternoon training, Yukimura packed his things, ruffled Yuzuru's hair, and said, "I'm going to the tennis club. I'll be back later." Yuzuru nodded, watched him leave, and stayed in the studio until about five o'clock in the evening before putting down his paintbrush, raising his hand, turning his neck, and stretching out a big yawn.

She picked up the kettle on the table, intending to add some hot water, but her gaze inadvertently swept over the trash can under the table, where several bags of potato chip wrappers had been secretly disposed of. Yuzuru stuck out her tongue, inexplicably afraid of being discovered by Yukimura.

At 5:30, there was a slight rattling sound from the door lock. Yukimura's voice, though somewhat tired, was still gentle: "I'm back, Momozawa."

Yuzuru was sitting in the living room watching TV when he heard this, and immediately stood up: "Welcome home, Yukimura."

He walked over, his gaze lingering on her face for a few seconds, then suddenly chuckled, "You have potato chip crunches on your lips, Momozawa."

Yuzuru was startled and hurriedly raised his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, wiping it several times, but found nothing. When he looked up, he met Yukimura's still teasing gaze and instantly realized that he had been tricked. His cheeks flushed, and he turned away guiltily, pretending to continue watching TV.

Yukimura walked slowly towards her, his breath gradually drawing closer, carrying his unique scent, a mixture of sunshine and sweat. Only when his warm breath was almost touching her lips did he speak softly, his voice magnetic: "Tomato-flavored potato chips."

Yuzuru turned his head slightly in shock. Before he could react, cherry-colored lips gently brushed against his slightly closed lips.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment. Both of them were stunned, and an unexpected ambiguity filled the air, making even their breathing cautious.

In the kitchen, Yukimura, wearing an apron, was preparing dinner, the clattering of pots and pans filling the air with a pleasant sound.

Yuzuru, meanwhile, was busy marinating two roast chickens for tomorrow's guests, while the prepared snacks were neatly arranged on a plate.

The two were perfectly in sync, each busy with their own tasks, yet occasionally exchanging glances, the ambiguity in the air gradually settling into warmth.

After finishing everything, it was already 10 p.m. when he lay down on the bed. Yuzuru let out a sigh of relief, closed his eyes, and a wave of exhaustion washed over him. But before he could even drift off to sleep, the mattress dipped slightly, and someone pulled back the covers and lay down beside him.

A warm breath brushed against his ear, tingling and itchy, with a temperature that made his heart flutter. Yuzuru opened his eyes, wanting to scold him, but met a pair of iris-purple eyes, churning with indescribable emotions, like a stormy sea.

"It's time to pay back, Momozawa."

His hand hooked around her neck, his body leaning slightly forward, his lips, still cool from his shower, gently pressed against hers. At first, it was a gentle caress, then the pressure gradually increased, caressing, twisting, parting, penetrating, a raw yet irresistible tenderness and dominance.

After a long while, the two slowly separated, their breathing heavy, foreheads touching, feeling each other's rapid heartbeats. Yukimura tightened his arms, pulling her close, and whispered in her ear, "Goodnight, Momozawa."

Yuzuru nestled in his arms, listening to his strong heartbeat, his breath lingering around his nose, and soon drifted off into a sweet dream.