The storm outside had grown fiercer, the rain hammering against the windows like a thousand tiny fists. The apartment felt like a bubble of warmth against the cold, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the peeling walls.
Qin lay on the worn couch, staring at the ceiling, his mind a swirl of thoughts he couldn't untangle. Zhao Yue had fallen asleep in the corner, her breathing slow and even, her sword resting within arm's reach. Even in slumber, she seemed vigilant, her body coiled like a spring ready to snap.
Feng Lan, however, was anything but coiled. She lounged on a chair near the table, her amber eyes fixed on Qin with a lazy intensity that made his skin prickle. She had discarded her jacket and shoes, leaving her in a simple blouse and skirt that clung to her in ways that seemed deliberately provocative.
"You're not going to sleep?" she asked, her voice low, almost purring.
Qin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to Zhao Yue. "I don't think I could even if I wanted to."
"Adrenaline still running high?" Feng Lan said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She stood, stretching in a way that was too deliberate to be casual. "You've had quite the night."
"That's one way to put it," he muttered, sitting up.
Feng Lan crossed the room slowly, her movements fluid and unhurried. She stopped a few feet from him, her arms crossed loosely over her chest as she tilted her head, studying him. "You did well back there, you know. For someone who's never faced anything like this before, you held your ground."
"Barely," Qin said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I felt like I was one mistake away from getting us all killed."
"That's the thing about this world," Feng Lan said, her voice softening. "Every step is a gamble. But you didn't freeze, and you didn't run. That counts for something."
Qin met her gaze, surprised by the sincerity in her tone. "Thanks, I guess."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're stronger than you think, Qin. But strength isn't just about fighting. It's about knowing what you want and taking it."
His pulse quickened as she leaned down, her face inches from his. He could feel the heat radiating from her, her scent—a mix of jasmine and something darker, more intoxicating—filling his senses.
"Feng," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing?"
Her smile widened, and she reached out, brushing her fingers along his jawline. "Relax," she said. "You've been thrown into a world you don't understand. Let me show you something worth holding onto."
His breath caught as she closed the distance, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was both soft and insistent. His initial shock gave way to a hesitant response, his hands awkwardly finding their way to her waist.
She chuckled against his lips, her voice teasing. "Amateur," she murmured, guiding his hands with her own. "But I like that about you."
The kiss deepened, her fingers tangling in his hair as she straddled him, her movements confident and deliberate. Qin's heart raced, a mix of nerves and excitement surging through him. He felt out of his depth, but Feng Lan's touch was grounding, her presence overwhelming in the best way.
Across the room, Zhao Yue stirred slightly but didn't wake. The sound of her soft breathing was a reminder of the thin line they were walking, the danger of being caught adding an edge of thrill to the moment.
Feng Lan pulled back slightly, her lips curved into a wicked smile. "You're holding back," she said, her voice a husky whisper. "Don't."
"I—I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted, his cheeks burning.
Her laughter was soft, almost musical. "Then let me teach you."
Her lips found his again, her hands guiding him as the world outside the apartment faded into insignificance. The storm raged on, but inside, beneath the flickering candlelight, Qin Han took his first steps into a new kind of intimacy—one filled with both vulnerability and fire.
By the time the candle burned low, the tension between them had given way to something deeper, more primal. Feng Lan's head rested on his chest, her breathing steady, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Qin stared at the ceiling, his thoughts spinning. He felt a strange mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, his body still humming with the aftershocks of the experience.
"Not bad for your first time," Feng Lan said, her voice drowsy but teasing.
He laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, you were a pretty good teacher."
Her fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest as she smirked. "You've got potential, Qin. In more ways than one."
Across the room, Zhao Yue shifted again, and Qin tensed instinctively. But Feng Lan just chuckled, pressing a finger to his lips. "Relax," she whispered. "She'll wake when she's ready. Until then... this is our moment."
And for once, Qin allowed himself to simply exist in that moment, the weight of the world outside temporarily forgotten.