Chapter 3 I want you, okay...?
Chapter 3
They kissed for a long time in the snow.
A gust of wind blew in, and Xia Zhiyao's lips were numb from being kissed. She was in his arms, letting him hold her and kiss her, as if she was letting the wind and snow bury not just a winter night, but three years of unspoken longing and escape.
Suddenly, a beam of headlights pierced the night and stopped at the street corner; it was the taxi he had called.
He finally released her, his forehead still pressed against hers, his breathing ragged. He didn't say a word, but simply reached out and clasped her cold fingertips together, their fingers intertwined, and she didn't pull away.
He glanced down at her, his voice hoarse: "Let's go."
She remained silent the entire way, leaning against the car window, her hand still clenched in his palm. The warmth of his fingertips gradually returned, but her heartbeat remained uncontrollable.
His shoulders remained tense, as if he were desperately suppressing some surging emotion, afraid that she would change her mind, and also afraid that it was just a fleeting illusion.
He pulled her out of the car, went upstairs, and opened the door in one smooth motion until the car stopped.
The door closed behind him. He turned around, standing in the dim light, his eyes completely broken, his voice low, hoarse, and strained: "Don't go."
He paused, then said, "Just tonight." His tone was so restrained it was almost broken. "Even if... it's just tonight."
She didn't respond, but slowly raised her hand, her fingertips landing on his face. At that moment, there was no smile or rejection in her eyes, only an indescribable weariness and tenderness.
Before she could even speak, he had already pinned her against the door. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes were like burning wildfire. He was almost out of control in front of her. Then, he leaned down and kissed her fiercely.
The kiss came without warning. He kissed her urgently and frantically, as if emotions that had been suppressed for too long had finally found an outlet. It was passionate and obsessive, carrying all the unspoken pain and longing.
Her back was pressed against the cold door panel, her whole body trapped in his arms, unable to move, her fingertips dangling in mid-air, her heart pounding like thunder.
His breath still carried the chill of the lingering snow night, yet it ignited a breathtaking heat on her lips.
The kiss was anything but gentle; it was even a bit harsh and wild, as if it wanted to tear her apart bit by bit into its bones and blood, to carve her into the depths of its soul, and to never let her leave again.
He was trembling; his pent-up emotions, which had been dormant for so long, finally crumbled at this moment. Their breaths mingled on their lips, chaotic as if a raging fire could erupt at any moment.
His kisses deepened, as if driven only by instinct, all rationality overwhelmed by the love and fear that had accumulated over the past three years.
Xia Zhiyao's hand finally trembled as she reached out. Through the thin shirt, she could clearly feel his heartbeat, fierce and surging, as if it were about to burst out from between his ribs and crash into her palm.
She had intended to push him away, but her palm only paused lightly on his burning skin. She couldn't tell whether it was a rejection or... a plea to stay.
“Zhou Yue…” she called him softly, her voice trembling slightly.
But he didn't stop; instead, he moved even closer, so close that she could smell his familiar scent—a wisp of sandalwood, jasmine, and some unknown faint floral fragrance, mixed with the lingering smell of alcohol in his breath, gradually scorching her sense of smell and nerves.
"Do you know how many years I've waited?" His voice was low and hoarse, almost broken.
His forehead pressed against hers, their noses touched, and their hot breaths mingled on her lips, trembling slightly, as if a single spark could extinguish all the remaining rationality between them.
“Of course I know what I’m doing…” he gritted his teeth, almost forcing the words out of his throat, “I know it all too well.”
The composure and defenses that Xia Zhiyao had been tightly guarding finally began to crumble at this moment, and she looked at the man in front of her.
The boy who had followed her since childhood now had red eyes and spoke out, word by word, about the desolation he had kept hidden in his heart for the past three years.
She tried to turn her eyes away, but was captivated by them—eyes that couldn't hide their emotions, naked and desperate. Within them lay passion, repression, a love riddled with wounds and resentment, as if an entire winter night had burned within them.
"You said you wanted to eat," he murmured in her ear, his voice so low it was almost broken, "but then you disappeared, you wouldn't answer your phone, you wouldn't reply to my WeChat messages. I searched for you bar by bar in that damn blizzard."
His Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice became even hoarseer: "Do you know how scared I am... I'm afraid you'll disappear completely, afraid that you'll never see me again."
Her body felt as if all her strength had been drained away; the hand that was supporting her on his shoulder could no longer be moved an inch. All her resistance collapsed completely at this moment.
Zhou Yue looked at her quietly, his eyes welling up with tears: "If you really don't care..." He lowered his head and placed an almost burning kiss on her skin, "then push me away, push me away now."
She didn't move, and the two remained locked in a stalemate, their breaths mingling, their breathing and heartbeats echoing each other, their breaths hot and trembling.
This moment of intimacy was a brief moment of tenderness he gained by overcoming all his self-control and pride; it was the only response he received after three years of solitude.
"Zhiyao..." he called her softly, his voice filled with both fragility and stubbornness, despair and hope.
"I want you...is that okay?"
This sentence seemed to be uttered only after he had exhausted all his strength, carrying a cautious humility and an almost pleading devotion.
With just a slight shake of her head, he would be plunged back into that abyss of solitary torment, falling silently into oblivion.
Xia Zhiyao slowly raised her head, her eyes oscillating between clarity and confusion.
He looked at her, opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more. But she suddenly reached out and gently placed her fingertips on his lips.
"Shh," she said, her fingertips carrying the coolness of the night, a tenderness that could not be refused.
She looked at him, her eyes swirling with emotion. "Zhou Yue," she said slowly, her voice low and gentle, "you mustn't regret this."
His throat tightened, his eyes reddened, but he said nothing. He simply leaned down and kissed her again. This time, the kiss was no longer as urgent and frantic as before, no longer carrying the meaning of conquest. Instead, it was cautious, with a slightly trembling heat, as if he had finally climbed a cliff and used all his strength just to touch the flower he had longed for for so long.
His hair fell down to the side of her face, their noses touching, their breaths mingling, as if the whole world had shrunk to just the short distance between them.
His lips lingered on hers: "I've never...done that before." In that instant, that raw honesty was more moving than any sweet words.
He paused, then whispered, "Teach me, okay?" His voice was even softer, carrying a hint of unease and hesitation, yet also an almost sacrificial trust.
She didn't respond immediately. Zhou Yue chuckled softly, a hint of self-mockery and brokenness in his smile, as if even he thought the request was absurd, yet he still spoke.
Because he had already let go of even the last shred of self-control.
The next second, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his kisses growing hot and deep, yet still trembling slightly, as if trying to soothe some long-held desire: "You have no idea... how many years I've endured..."
His fingertips, with a careful and devout touch, slowly moved across her face. His fingertips gently brushed across her eyebrows, lightly touched the soft skin at the corner of her eyes, and then landed on her lips, which were slightly red with emotion, as if trembling in anticipation of the next storm.
Zhou Yue dared not exert any force, even breathing very softly, as if the slightest exertion would shatter this moment of tenderness and shatter the dream.
“I’m afraid you won’t want me…” His voice was so low it was almost drowned out by her breath beside her neck, “I’m afraid you’ll never… ever turn around and look at me again.”
Before she finished speaking, Xia Zhiyao suddenly reached out and wrapped her slender arm around his neck, pulling him closer. She didn't say anything, but it was as if she had already expressed all the deepest feelings in the world.
At that moment, Zhou Yue was stunned. His body trembled violently as her silent response struck down all his defenses, and a light suddenly ignited in his eyes.
He finally lost control and, without any warning, gently picked her up, his movements as devout as if he were receiving the light he had been waiting for for many years. He gently placed her on the bed, then leaned down, his forehead against hers, his breathing disordered and rapid.
My body trembled slightly, like a vine that had endured too much darkness, finally climbing up to that luminous dream hidden deep in my heart.
His kisses landed inch by inch, from his eyebrows and eyes, the tip of his nose, to the corners of his lips and collarbone, slow and firm, as if he were slowly trying to reclaim the warmth that had been stolen by time over the past three years.
The gesture was almost devout, like a pilgrimage, yet it also subtly revealed a desire that was about to spiral out of control, as if the closer one got, the more afraid one became of waking up.
He wasn't impatient or domineering; he simply kissed her again and again, as if trying his best to fill all the blank spaces—those days when they never got close, those regrets of brushing past each other, those silent longings that burned so intensely they almost scorched his chest.
That night, they finally stopped backing down and stopped holding back. All the suppressed emotions, unspoken words, and unexpressed love poured out in each other's arms.
It burned like a wildfire, swiftly devouring every crevice, and was as deep as a tide, sweeping the two of them into the abyss called love.
The wind and snow were still falling outside the window. Xia Zhiyao opened his eyes. The snow had pressed the entire city into a blurry white, as if the world had been sealed away, leaving only this room and the warmth in his arms.
She tried to move, but as soon as she raised her hand, the hand around her waist tightened abruptly. She looked down and saw that Zhou Yue was still asleep, his face half-buried in the crook of her neck, breathing steadily, but with a furrowed brow, as if he were having some unsettling dream.
"Don't go..." he murmured, his voice hoarse and indistinct, like a plea in a dream.
She froze, her heart momentarily captivated. A few seconds later, she stopped struggling and simply leaned back, letting herself sink back into his embrace.
He seemed to sense her compromise, nuzzling his face against her shoulder, his whole body relaxing and quieting down. She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat, each beat striking her ears.
Those emotions she thought she had let go of quietly returned. She never imagined that he had loved her to this extent.
It wasn't an impulse, nor a desire, but a deeply hidden obsession, quiet yet impossible to ignore.
She reached out and gently brushed her fingertips through his disheveled hair. After a moment, she whispered, "I'm going to the restroom."
As soon as the door closed, Zhou Yue opened his eyes. He quietly got out of bed, his footsteps so light they made no sound. Standing in the darkness, his eyes were cold, yet a turbulent undercurrent was hidden within that silence.
Soon, the door opened slightly, and Xia Zhiyao came out, wearing only his oversized T-shirt, the hem of which hung down to his knees. It was damp from washing and carried a faint fragrance. He looked languid and relaxed, yet his unguardedness made him so captivating that it made one's heart tighten.
She looked up and met his almost frozen gaze. The light outlined his tense features. She paused for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, half-smiling, half-teasing: "What, afraid I'll run away?"
Before he could finish speaking, he rushed in front of her, grabbed her waist, and practically carried her back to the bedroom.
"Don't go..." His voice was so low it sounded like it was being torn from his chest, filled with uncontrollable pain and obsession, "Not even for a second..."
Xia Zhiyao was stunned. She slowly reached out and hugged him, gently patting his back, her tone like that of someone comforting a disappointed child: "Haven't I always been here?"
His shoulder line loosened slightly, but he still held her tightly, as if to confirm that she really existed. The next second, his lips pressed against hers, as if he wanted to carve her into his bones and blood inch by inch.
At this moment, Zhou Yue was no longer the impeccably dressed, calm, and sharp man; he was simply the boy who had searched every bar on a snowy night, fearing she would never turn back.
The person who traveled alone for many years and finally brought back his own light.
Xia Zhiyao stroked the back of his neck, feeling his suppressed, trembling breaths. She whispered, "I said I won't leave... I really won't leave."
This sentence was like a spark falling onto a fuse.
Zhou Yue suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot. The next moment, he kissed her, passionately and urgently, as if giving all his longing and fear to her lips.
She was almost breathless from his kiss, her hands on his shoulders, but she heard him plead softly, "Don't pull away..."
Her eyes welled up with tears, and she grabbed the back of his neck, leaning forward to meet his gaze. "I'm here, you don't need to be afraid."
His emotions completely overwhelmed him. The kisses grew deeper and more urgent, and as he embraced her, he also demanded more from her in a state of fear. He was afraid that it was all just an illusion, afraid that when he woke up, she would turn around and leave again.
So he instinctively increased the pressure, and she let out a soft moan. He paused for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers, his breathing disordered, his eyes like a burning deep sea, full of fear and longing.
Then he hugged her tighter and kissed her more passionately, as if he wanted to fill in the three years they had missed in one go.
That night, they were completely defeated by each other. Zhou Yue called her name softly again and again, each time as if engraving her into his bones. Xia Zhiyao also shed all her pretenses and completely lost her defenses in this silent surrender.
The wind and snow stopped, the night deepened, and their world finally saw the dawn.
A note from the author:
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