As Anita's car faded down the street, Hirvan let out a long sigh of relief. His steps sped up with purpose as he went upstairs. His mind was filled with concern for Fu Yan.
As he softly opened the door to his room, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sleeping figure. Fu Yan's face showed a peaceful sleep.
He crouched down beside the bed, his gaze lingering on Fu Yan's features, the strong, sword-like eyebrows, the long, curly eyelashes resting gently on his cheeks, and those lips. The memory of how they had tasted, soft and sweet, surfaced uninvited, and Hirvan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple rolling down nervously.
His hand, almost of its own volition, began to reach out, fingers trembling slightly as they neared Fu Yan's lips. He paused, the tips of his fingers hovering just above the skin, barely making contact. The touch was feather-light, almost as if he feared that any more pressure would shatter the delicate moment.
