Chapter 23 She looked down at him: "...
The dim motion-sensor lights in the hallway flickered on and off, and his footsteps were barely audible on the carpet.
Zhou Yue held the key in one hand and the doorknob in the other. He paused outside the door for a few seconds, suppressing the cold wind outside and the turmoil in his heart.
The door lock turned gently with a "click," he tried to keep it as light as possible. As he pushed the door open, he first peeked inside; the room was dark.
He took off his coat and casually draped it over the back of the sofa. He moved over slowly, his heart pounding almost audible. The bedroom door was ajar. He gripped the doorknob and pushed it open a crack.
The light from the phone softly illuminated her profile. Xia Zhiyao was curled up, not sleeping soundly, and there seemed to be a slight frown between her brows.
Zhou Yue slowly walked over, bent down and lifted the corner of the quilt, his body, chilly with the night air, slipped inside, first lying down with a half-inch gap between him and the quilt, as if giving himself a way out.
But after only a few seconds, he still reached out and slowly wrapped his arm around her from behind, with an unwavering determination that wouldn't let go.
He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck, his breathing carefully matching her rhythm, and the weariness between his brows slowly relaxed at that moment.
He didn't say anything, but just hugged her tighter, as if he had finally returned to a place where he could stop, even if only temporarily.
She was half-awake and half-asleep, her consciousness fluctuating, but she didn't struggle. She only moved slightly, and he subconsciously tightened his arms, pulling her even closer into his embrace.
His breath brushed against her ear, his voice low and intimate, as if coming from the very heart: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you."
Behind that apology lay regret and guilt, as well as a quiet persistence, as if saying, "No matter where you go, I will find you and hold you in my arms."
Xia Zhiyao stirred slightly in her sleep, instinctively moving closer to that warmth. She heard his soft breathing on the back of her neck, and her heart felt gently touched.
She reached out and grasped the hand that was wrapped around her waist. Zhou Yue's breath hitched for a moment. Xia Zhiyao grabbed his wrist with her other hand, pressing his hand closer to her with a force that left no room for refusal.
She turned around, her eyes shining like a deep pool in the darkness. Their breaths mingled, and without speaking, she raised her hand to cup his face and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was slow, but it carried an unwavering determination. Zhou Yue responded almost instantly, tightening his arms and pulling her into his embrace.
Xia Zhiyao's fingers traced his cheek, gently cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The moment their lips touched, Zhou Yue's hand slowly moved down her spine, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric, making her breath catch in her throat.
She didn't speak, her brow furrowed slightly, her fingertips unconsciously tightening as if grasping at her only support. Zhou Yue lowered his head, his lips lingering near her ear, his movements restrained yet carrying an almost overflowing urgency.
They had never been so silent during sex.
In the past, they always liked to chat while doing things, or whisper flirtatious words with a smile between breaths, and even occasionally add some dirty talk that was too ambiguous. That was their intimate habit and their way of confirming each other's feelings.
When everything was over, only heavy breathing remained in the room, so hot that one almost forgot it was a snowy winter night outside the window.
Zhou Yue was still holding her. Xia Zhiyao slowly turned her head and saw that he had his eyes closed, and there was still fatigue and unease between his brows.
The next second, she suddenly reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him closer, and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was long and slow, without any urgency or desire. In the silence, their breaths gradually mingled. Zhou Yue was stunned at first, then returned the kiss. In the end, neither of them spoke.
The snow was still falling outside the window, fine and persistent. In the silent approach of the night, Xia Zhiyao didn't know if this counted as a compromise, nor was she sure if this still counted as love.
But she knew that at this moment, she needed Zhou Yue's embrace—quiet, warm, and silent, yet pulling her back from the cold world. She sank into the lingering warmth of his chest, silently falling into a pause intertwined with longing and fear.
Even if it's just for one night, even if she has to face everything again tomorrow, Xia Zhiyao told herself, just like that, if she gets a little closer to him, she can live one more day.
When Xia Zhiyao woke up, it was already bright outside. Her eyes were blank the moment she opened them. She stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before slowly realizing that Zhou Yue had been holding her all night.
But he was no longer there. She sat up, her fingertips brushing against a corner of the pillow where his familiar scent still lingered. A few minutes later, she got up and dressed, her movements slow and her expression indifferent.
A bouquet of flowers sat on the coffee table, white roses and eucalyptus, her favorite combination. Next to the bouquet was a small card with strong handwriting: "I'm sorry, I was too harsh last night. I'm going to the office now. Let's have dinner together after work tonight, if you'd like. —ZY"
She stared at the words for a long time, her fingertips gently tracing the edge of the card, her expression showing no obvious emotional fluctuation.
She stared at the words for a long time. Finally, she reached out and picked up the bouquet of flowers, lowered her head and gently sniffed it. The faint fragrance filled her nostrils.
She carried the flowers and slowly walked around the house, from the window to the bedroom, from the kitchen to the living room, each step as if she were examining the relationship between the house and herself.
My fingers occasionally brush against the tabletop, cabinet doors, or sofa armrests, as if bidding a silent farewell to everything here.
Walking to her desk, she finally put down the flowers, took a deep breath, turned on her computer, and the screen lit up, the white light reflecting on her face. Her back straightened up in that instant, as if she had made a decision.
That evening, Zhou Yue waited for her downstairs on time.
Xia Zhiyao wore a dark blue dress, and her makeup was a bit heavier than usual. The wine-red smudge at the corner of her eyes and the thin eyeliner were perfectly connected, making her eyes look both bright and sharp. Her lips were a bold red, like a ball of intense fire, suppressing the usual coldness between her brows and eyes.
Zhou Yue was stunned for a moment. This was the first time he had seen her made up so beautifully, as if she had instantly pulled him away from his familiar path and sent him into a more dangerous distance.
She opened the car door and got in. The scent of musk mixed with floral perfume wafted into his nostrils on the night breeze. Zhou Yue gripped the steering wheel with one hand, looking straight ahead, his tone as calm as if nothing had happened: "What do you want to eat?" as if last night's argument was just an illusion.
They went to their usual Japanese restaurant. The lighting inside was soft, and the soft sounds of slicing sashimi came from behind the sushi counter.
The two sat side by side at the bar and ordered their usual set meals: salmon and eel nigiri sushi.
He poured her tea, and she served him food. They occasionally exchanged a few jokes, their conversations revolving around the progress of recent projects, gossip about friends, and which shops had launched new desserts.
On the surface, everything was the same as before, even the rhythm was the same. After dinner, Zhou Yue bought two servings of her favorite matcha ice cream and carried them ahead as usual.
She followed behind, tilting her head slightly to look at his back. For a moment, she felt a sense of disorientation. She was extremely familiar with this scene, yet she knew clearly that this was the last time.
When Zhou Yue returned from dinner, he took off his coat and, while unbuttoning his shirt, said, "I'm going to take a shower first."
When they came out, the living room lights were still on, but it was empty; Xia Zhiyao was nowhere to be seen.
"Zhiyao?" he called out casually, his tone as calm as ever.
The next second, there were light footsteps coming from the bedroom. As she walked out, she reached out and snapped the living room light off.
Her vision suddenly dimmed, the night outside the window intertwined with the scattered streetlights, making her silhouette exceptionally clear.
She wasn't wearing her usual dress, but a black, form-fitting fabric, delicate and thin, that shimmered faintly in the dim light, outlining her slender waist and long legs. With each step, the fabric rippled slightly, like waves spreading through the air.
Zhou Yue stood frozen in place. The light slanted in from the window, flowing along her shoulders and neck, making her look like a firelight emerging from the night—cold, dangerous, and fatally attractive.
She approached him step by step. Just as Zhou Yue was about to speak, she suddenly pushed him, causing him to fall onto the sofa. Before he could even sit properly, she straddled his lap.
Zhou Yue's breathing became erratic in an instant, a rush of heat shot through his veins to the top of his head, and his heart pounded like a drum, each beat reminding him that he was about to lose control.
“Zhiyao…” he said in a low, hoarse voice, his emotions rising to his throat, but she pressed a fingertip to his lips.
"Shh, don't speak." She leaned closer, her breath brushing against his earlobe, carrying a cool dampness and a faint fragrance, but the last word was like a drop of strong liquor falling into a flame, instantly igniting every nerve in his body.
A cool, aloof aura slowly spread, mixed with her usual resoluteness. She lowered her head, her fingertips unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. With each button undone, his breathing became more erratic, and the heat in his chest was forced out inch by inch.
Zhou Yue held his breath. His fingertips were already hot, and he almost uncontrollably raised them, wanting to touch even an inch of her skin—just to confirm that she was really here, and not just another illusion of turning away.
But she didn't give him any chance to breathe. With swift movements, she grabbed his shoulder and pressed him back onto the sofa. She looked down at him and said, "I told you, don't move."
She sat on his lap, looking down at him, a slight smile playing on her lips, a hint of the smugness that only a controller could possess in her eyes. She could make him lose control without making a sound.
Without warning, she leaned down and kissed him deeply, her long-suppressed pain, resentment, and possessiveness drawing him into the abyss in one breath. Her lips trembled slightly, yet she kissed him even harder, pouring out all the emotions she had never expressed into this kiss without reservation.
Zhou Yue was stunned, her mind blank. She was always calm and restrained, her kisses always carrying a gentle warmth and detachment, never losing control. But at this moment, it was as if she had thrown her whole heart into his arms, burning and tearing it apart, leaving only naked instinct.
Zhou Yue's hands finally broke free from the shackles of reason, tightening their grip and trapping her firmly in his arms, his palms pressed against her back.
Her lips were burning from his kisses, her breath coming in short gasps, yet she clung tightly to his neck, refusing to let either of them pull away. Each touch of their lips carried the trepidation of something lost and then found, as if confirming that they were both still there.
Zhou Yue almost forgot the time, forgot whether he was in the living room or in a dream. The only thing he could sense was that she was slowly consuming all his reason.
Their kiss grew deeper and longer. He wasn't responding to impulse, but trying to catch her collapse; she had been quiet for too long, and this moment of loss of control was her only way out.
She almost pressed herself against him, her kisses hurried and frantic, desperately trying to escape the past, telling herself that as long as she held onto him now, she hadn't completely lost him.
He could only hold her tight. She used her body to replace words, approaching him again and again, trying to convince herself in the only way that she, who had been betrayed by love, still deserved to be loved again.
After an unknown amount of time, she finally let go of him, gently pressing her forehead against his chest, her breathing erratic, her heart pounding as if it would burst out of her chest.
She raised her head, her eyes filled with an unspoken pain, as if a thousand words were stuck in her throat, but in the end, she could only utter a low, almost inaudible murmur: "...I'm sorry."
That night, silence filled the dimly lit bedroom, even the sound of breathing seemed to be suppressed by emotions.
There were no extra words, only repeated embraces and tender moments, as if they were afraid that if they let go, time and reality would tear them apart. They used all their strength to etch this long-overdue obsession into each other's skin and memories.
Xia Zhiyao had never been so proactive. Her desires and despair were completely released that night, and she gave herself away without reservation with a near-collapse of passion and impulse.
It was like a final, all-consuming outpouring, weaving all the unspoken love, hate, and pain into the touch and the breath.
Zhou Yue had never seen her like this before, with no defenses and no way out, like a raging fire at its peak, only able to pull him closer and closer again and again.
As night gradually faded and daylight seeped through the gaps in the curtains, they remained tightly embracing each other.
The outside world began to recover, but their breaths and heartbeats remained on the edge of that night, like a fortress briefly built for each other in the midst of a storm.
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Author's Note: Zhou Yue, you're so lucky! Your sister will fulfill all your sexual fantasies.
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