Wen Yanqing could only see darkness, hear the noise of cars driving past and conversations both far and near, but he couldn't see where Lin Gantang was.
It wasn't until his palm was taken that the familiar softness and warmth gradually steadied his frantic, agitated heart.
She was still here.
His waist was embraced tightly, he heard very light, shallow sobs, and eventually let go of all his reservations, holding her tight in his embrace.
He buried his head in her neck, the corners of his eyes turned red as he kissed her neck softly.
There was a joy in regaining something lost, an ease from casting everything aside, and a guilt stabbing persistently at his heart.
"I was so afraid... you wouldn't come," she sobbed, her speech intermittent and broken.
Wen Yanqing's eyes welled up with warmth, and in a hoarse voice, he said, "I'm sorry."
Lin Gantang emerged from his arms, drying the tears on her face.
