Part 21

Yok's room was a world of its own-dimly lit, warm, filled with the scent of paper and charcoal. Sketches covered the walls, pinned haphazardly in a way that spoke of passion rather than organization. Some were finished masterpieces, others abandoned ideas, all of them a testament to the way Yok saw the world.

Longtai had been here before, but tonight, it felt different.

His chest felt tight as he stepped inside, his heart drumming against his ribs. There was an intimacy to this moment he wasn't prepared for, a weight to Yok's words that still lingered in his mind.

"I want to draw you. The way I see you."

"Sit here," Yok said softly, pulling a chair toward the small corner where the light hit just right. His voice had lost its usual playfulness-there was something quieter about him now, something serious.

Longtai swallowed and did as he was told, hesitating only for a second before perching on the edge of the seat. He shifted slightly, unsure of what to do with his hands.

Yok chuckled, noticing the way Longtai fidgeted. "Relax," he murmured, moving to grab his supplies. "You're not posing for royalty, you know."

Longtai huffed, looking away. "I've just... never been drawn before." His voice was quiet.

Yok paused, glancing at him. "No one's ever wanted to capture you?"

Longtai shook his head. "Not like this."

A small, unreadable smile flickered across Yok's lips before he sat down in front of him, setting a blank canvas on his easel. "Then I guess I'll be the first."

Longtai's heart skipped a beat.

He forced himself to sit still as Yok picked up a charcoal pencil, his fingers rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before pressing it lightly to the canvas.

And then, the world around them faded.

Yok's focus was absolute. His brows furrowed slightly, lips parting just a little as he traced the first lines. His fingers moved with practiced ease, yet there was something different in the way he worked tonight. His strokes were slower, more deliberate, as if he was afraid of getting something wrong.

Longtai watched him, mesmerized. The way his hands moved, the way his eyes flickered between him and the canvas, the way his jaw tensed when he was deep in concentration-it was intimate in a way Longtai wasn't sure he knew how to handle.

But even more overwhelming was the way Yok looked at him.

Not just like an artist studying his subject, but like someone seeing him-truly seeing him. Every detail. Every shift in expression. Every breath.

Longtai swallowed hard, his fingers twitching in his lap. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

Yok, oblivious to-or maybe deliberately ignoring-Longtai's growing nervousness, continued to work, his fingers smudging the charcoal, blending the shadows into softness. He caught the way Longtai's lips parted slightly when he was deep in thought, the curve of his jawline, the way his cardigan fell around his frame.

He had tried to draw Longtai before, had sketched him more times than he cared to admit. But it had never felt right.

Now, though... now he was capturing it.

The quiet beauty of him.

The way he existed, not just in stillness, but in every breath he took.

The way Longtai sat on the bed, his cardigan slipping slightly from his shoulder, its folds catching the dim light. The way his fingers curled and uncurled over his knee, restless, betraying his nervousness. The way his lips parted ever so slightly, as if he were about to say something but thought better of it.

Longtai's gaze kept darting toward Yok's hands. He watched how his fingers smudged the charcoal with deliberate tenderness, how the dark pigment spread and softened, shaping him on the page. There was something hypnotic about it-about the way Yok touched the paper, how he handled each stroke with such care, as if he wasn't just drawing a face, but memorizing him. Cherishing him.

Longtai's throat tightened. His breath felt unsteady.

The soft skritch of charcoal against canvas filled the silence between them, a gentle rhythm that made the room feel smaller, more intimate. Longtai didn't realize how still he had become, how his earlier tension had melted into quiet surrender. His lashes fluttered, his eyes glassy with something he couldn't name.

He felt seen.

And yet, the vulnerability of it made his pulse stutter, made his fingers tap against the hem of his sleeve in a barely-there motion. His gaze dropped, his cheeks deepening in color, the warmth blooming along his skin like Yok's careful shading on the paper.

Yok exhaled slowly, his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears. He let his fingers linger as he blended the soft curve of Longtai's jawline, letting himself feel the moment.

Because this wasn't just a sketch.

This was him.

Longtai, in his quiet beauty. In the way he breathed. In the way he existed.

When he finally set his pencil down, Yok exhaled, staring at the finished piece.

His heart thudded.

It was him.

Not just Longtai's features, but the way Yok saw him.

For a moment, he simply sat there, staring at it. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze.

Longtai was watching him, hesitant, nervous. "Is it..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

Yok smiled-a soft, almost stunned kind of smile-as he turned the canvas toward him. "What do you think?"

Longtai's breath hitched.

The drawing was beautiful.

Not just in technique, but in feeling. There was emotion in every stroke, in every shadow. It wasn't just a portrait-it was him.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached out, tracing the edge of the canvas, his chest tightening.

"Is this... really how he sees me?"

His heart pounded so loudly he was sure Yok could hear it.

"It's beautiful," Longtai murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yok exhaled, his smile widening just a little. "Yeah," he said softly. "It is."

Longtai's fingers lingered on the edge of the drawing, his throat suddenly feeling tight. He didn't know why he felt this way, why his chest felt too full, why his eyes burned with unshed tears.

He had never seen himself like this before.

Never felt so seen.

Yok was still sitting, still watching him, but there was something different in his gaze now-something heavier.

And then, slowly, he stood up.

Longtai's breath caught.

Yok was close now-so close that Longtai could see the faint traces of charcoal smudged on his fingers, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The warmth of him was almost overwhelming.

Longtai's lips parted, but before he could say anything, Yok reached out.

His fingers brushed against Longtai's cheek-light, barely there. But the touch sent an electric current through him, a sharp jolt that made his entire body freeze.

The charcoal smudged against Longtai's skin, dark fingertips leaving faint traces behind.

Yok's touch was careful, reverent, as if he were still drawing him-only now, instead of paper, it was him.

Longtai's pulse roared in his ears. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Yok's gaze flickered down to his lips, then back up.

Longtai swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling too quickly. He felt dizzy. His skin burned where Yok touched him.

The moment stretched, delicate and fragile.

And then, Yok leaned in.

Longtai's breath hitched, his heart slamming against his ribs.

Yok tilted his head slightly, his hand slipping to cup Longtai's face fully now, his thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. His touch was steady, but Longtai could feel the faint tremor in his fingers.

He was just as affected as he was.

Yok whispered, "Longtai."

The way he said his name-soft, intimate, like a secret-sent a shiver down Longtai's spine.

And then, without another word, Yok closed the distance.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. A slow, lingering press of lips that stole the breath from Longtai's lungs.

Longtai's eyes fluttered shut, his body melting into the warmth of it, into the way Yok's lips moved against his-careful, hesitant, yet undeniably there.

His hands clutched at the fabric of his cardigan, trying to ground himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the way Yok felt.

Warm. Steady. Real.

Yok tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss just a fraction, his fingers still tracing faint charcoal marks along Longtai's skin.

Longtai's body felt hot, his heart hammering wildly. He wasn't sure how long they stood there, lost in the quiet, breathless pull between them.

By the time they finally pulled away, Longtai was dazed, lips tingling, cheeks flushed.

The air between them was heavy, charged with something neither of them could put into words. Yok's forehead rested lightly against Longtai's, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

Longtai's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto Yok's. His heart pounded, but so did Yok's-he could feel it, the unsteady rhythm mirroring his own.

Yok exhaled softly, his breath trembling as he spoke, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness. "I long to trace every part.. Every inch of you," he murmured, his fingers grazing the curve of Longtai's face, tracing the delicate line of his cheekbone. His thumb lingered, brushing over the softness of his parted lips. "If you wish me to stop, I will."

Longtai swallowed, his throat dry. He had spent so long keeping people at arm's length, building walls around himself, afraid of letting anyone close enough to see him-really see him. But Yok had already seen him. In his sketches, in his touch, in the way he spoke his name. And for once, Longtai didn't want to run. He wanted to stay.

He gave the smallest shake of his head, his voice quiet but firm. "Don't stop."

Yok's lips curved into a slow, breathless smile before his hands slid down to Longtai's waist, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. Then, he kissed him again.

This time, the kiss was deeper, more desperate. Yok's lips moved with quiet hunger, tracing the shape of Longtai's mouth, savoring him. Longtai felt the warmth of his breath, the way he tasted like something sweet and intoxicating. Yok's hands tightened on his waist, fingers pressing into fabric and skin as if afraid he might slip away.

Longtai gasped softly as Yok tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and in that moment, something inside him unraveled. His fingers curled into the fabric of Yok's shirt, gripping it tightly as he felt himself being pulled under by the intensity of it all.

Yok's tongue brushed against his lower lip, teasing, asking. Longtai's breath hitched before he parted his lips, allowing Yok to explore him fully. A quiet, startled moan escaped his throat as Yok's tongue slid against his, slow and deliberate, sending shivers down his spine.

Heat pooled in Longtai's chest, his entire body thrumming with an electric current. Yok's hands moved, one slipping up his back, tracing the subtle dip of his spine, the other sliding under the hem of his cardigan, fingers brushing the warm skin beneath.

Longtai arched into his touch, his breath uneven as Yok guided him backward. His legs hit the edge of the mattress, making him stumble slightly. Yok followed, his body pressing against Longtai's as they tumbled onto the bed together, never once breaking apart.

Yok caged him in effortlessly, his arms braced on either side of Longtai's body. He pulled back just enough to look down at him, his own chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

Longtai lay beneath him, his hair messy from where Yok's fingers had threaded through it, his cardigan slipping from his shoulders, revealing pale, unmarked skin. His lips were swollen from their kiss, his cheeks flushed with something new-something neither of them had spoken aloud.

Yok swallowed hard, his heart pounding at the sight of him. God. He had wanted to draw him, but no sketch, no painting could ever capture this.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against Longtai's bare collarbone, trailing lower, feeling the way his breath hitched beneath his touch.

The way his breath hitched as Yok's fingers brushed against his collarbone. It was more than beauty; it was something raw, something alive.

He reached out again, his touch hesitant but deliberate, trailing lower, feeling the way Longtai's breath stuttered beneath his fingertips.

"I'll stop if you want me to," Yok murmured again, his voice hoarse, reverent.

Longtai met his gaze, eyes dark with something unreadable, something vulnerable and unguarded. His fingers, still clutching Yok's shirt, tightened their grip.

"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please... keep going."

Yok exhaled sharply, as if those words had undone something in him. He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Longtai's forehead, then another just beneath his ear, his breath warm against his skin. He felt the way Longtai shivered beneath him, the way his body tensed and then softened, yielding to his touch like an unfinished sketch surrendering to the artist's hand.

He let his lips drift lower, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of Longtai's jaw, his pulse point, his throat. Each touch was deliberate, like brushstrokes on a fresh canvas-each kiss a question, a promise, a line he was desperate to perfect. Longtai's fingers trembled slightly where they clung to him, but he didn't pull away.

Yok's hand slid lower, slipping beneath the fabric of Longtai's shirt. His fingertips traced the soft ridges of his abdomen, mapping the rise and fall of muscle and skin as if he were committing them to memory. He followed the lines of Longtai's body with a painter's reverence, dragging his touch across his stomach like he was sketching him in invisible ink. Longtai arched into it with a quiet gasp, his skin burning everywhere Yok's fingers danced.

He didn't know what was happening to him-he had never felt like this before. Never let himself want like this before.

Yok pulled back just enough to look at him again, and the sight stole his breath. Longtai, lying beneath him, flushed and breathless, looking at him like he was something precious-something worth capturing-made Yok's chest ache.

And for the first time, Longtai let himself feel.

He let himself drown in the warmth of Yok's lips, the weight of his body, the quiet, unspoken promises in every lingering touch.

Yok pulled back just enough to look at him again, and the sight of Longtai lying beneath him-flushed, breathless, looking at him like that, like he was something precious-made Yok's chest ache.

His fingers curled around Longtai's wrist, guiding his hand up until their fingers tangled together against the mattress, a silent reassurance, a tether between them.

Longtai exhaled shakily, his lips parting as Yok dipped his head, capturing his mouth in another slow, searing kiss. This one was different-less hurried, more deliberate. Like Yok was memorizing him. Like he wanted Longtai to feel everything.

Their mouths moved together in an unhurried rhythm, the kind of kiss that made time feel irrelevant. Yok's hand slid up to cradle Longtai's jaw, his thumb brushing over the sharp edge of his cheekbone before deepening the kiss, savoring the way Longtai's breath hitched, the way his fingers tightened around Yok's wrist.

When Yok finally pulled back, Longtai's eyes were hazy, his lips kiss-swollen, and the sight made something inside Yok tighten. He couldn't help but lean in again, pressing another kiss to his lips-this time slower, gentler, like a lingering brushstroke on a masterpiece. His other hand found the hem of Longtai's shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to trace the warmth of his skin.

"Is this okay?" Yok asked, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

Longtai nodded, his breathing uneven, his eyes searching Yok's face as if trying to find answers to questions he couldn't quite articulate. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice shaky but certain.

Yok hesitated for only a moment before slowly pushing Longtai's shirt up, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest, the faint dusting of smooth skin down to his navel. His fingers traced over the newly exposed skin like he was outlining a delicate sketch, mapping each curve and dip with reverence. Then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the center of Longtai's chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath his lips.

Longtai's breath came in short, uneven gasps as Yok's mouth wandered lower, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of his stomach, his ribs, the sharp curve of his hipbone. His hands trembled against the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets as Yok's lips found the dip of his navel, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin.

A soft moan slipped from Longtai's lips, his hips twitching slightly off the bed, and Yok felt a shiver run through him. His hands slid down, gripping Longtai's thighs, holding him steady, but his touch remained light, reverent. When he looked up, their eyes met-Longtai's gaze darkened yet impossibly soft, his lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Yok murmured, his voice rough with desire as his fingers teased the waistband of Longtai's pants, lingering, waiting.

Longtai shook his head, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. "Please no.. Don't stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with something that made Yok's pulse stutter.

Slowly, deliberately, Yok removed the fabric from Longtai's legs, his hands tracing the length of him like an artist committing every line, every curve, to memory. His fingertips brushed over his knees, then higher, gliding over the muscles of his thighs, following the shape of him like he was drawing invisible lines on a blank canvas. Longtai exhaled softly, his eyes fluttering shut, surrendering to the feeling of being seen, being studied by Yok's hands.

Yok's lips curved into the faintest smile as he leaned down again, pressing a kiss to the inside of Longtai's thigh, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath his touch. He could feel the heat of Longtai's skin, the way his breath stuttered as Yok's mouth moved higher, his fingers digging into Yok's shoulders as if to steady himself.

He kissed the soft skin of his inner thigh, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin, and Longtai let out a quiet gasp, his fingers tangling in Yok's hair, not pulling, just holding.

"Yok-" His voice broke, trembling with something raw, something like need, and Yok couldn't stop himself from pressing another kiss-higher, slower, closer to where Longtai was most sensitive.

Longtai's grip tightened in his hair, his breathing uneven as Yok's mouth traced along the edges of his restraint, teasing, savoring, learning.

His lips brushing against the fabric of Longtai's boxers, feeling the heat of him beneath the thin material.

"Please-" Longtai's voice was barely a whisper, but the way he said it, the way his body trembled beneath him, made Yok's chest ache with something he couldn't quite name.

He looked up, meeting Longtai's gaze, watching the way his eyes burned with something unspoken, something fragile yet unbreakable.

And Yok, the artist, the dreamer, the man who had spent his life searching for beauty in everything-realized that in this moment, Longtai was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.

Yok's eyes were soft, his gaze steady and full of intent. He lifted Longtai's leg gently, pressing his lips to the delicate bone of his ankle. He lingered there for a breath before continuing, tracing a slow path up his calf, then to the sensitive skin just above his knee. Each kiss was deliberate, his lips warm, reverent-like he was mapping Longtai's body with devotion, savoring the way his skin heated beneath each touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," Yok murmured, his breath ghosting over Longtai's skin, his voice low and full of something raw.

Longtai barely had time to process the words before Yok's fingers moved lower, brushing lightly, teasing, until they found the hidden heat of him. The moment they touched, a sharp gasp tore from Longtai's lips, his body tensing beneath the feather-light pressure.

"Relax," Yok whispered, his voice a steady, grounding hum against the mounting tension in the room. His free hand slid up, pressing against Longtai's stomach in a slow, soothing stroke. "I've got you."

Longtai nodded, breath hitching as Yok's fingers pressed inside him-slow, patient, insistent. A shudder wracked through him as the first push sent a ripple of something unfamiliar, overwhelming, through his body. Inch by inch, Yok eased inside, his touch careful, measured, but undeniably deep.

"That's it," Yok murmured, his voice a quiet thread of encouragement.

Longtai's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Yok fingers moved-slow, unhurried, like he was studying every reaction, every twitch, every sound that spilled from his lips. His hands twisted into the sheets, his hips rising instinctively as Yok's touch curled just right, drawing a broken moan from the depths of him.

Yok hummed, the sound deep and pleased, before pressing another lingering kiss to the inside of Longtai's thigh.

A tremor ran through Longtai's body as Yok's touch sent fresh waves of sensation rolling through him. He felt weightless, untethered, drowning in the slow, deliberate way Yok unraveled him. His thoughts blurred, lost in the heat, the ache, the sheer intensity of being seen like this-touched like this.

"Yok..." he moaned, his voice breaking as pleasure spiked sharp and sweet through him.

Yok pulled back slightly, his breath warm against Longtai's skin, before tilting up and capturing his lips in a kiss-soft, grounding, something to hold onto. Their mouths moved together in a slow, unhurried rhythm, a tether amidst the storm.

Yok's lips barely left his when he pressed another kiss to his forehead, lingering for a beat longer than necessary, his breath steady even as the air between them burned.

"You're doing so well," he whispered, his voice low and steady, a soothing counterpoint to the heat curling between them.

Longtai's eyes fluttered shut, his breath stuttering, a soft moan slipping free as he nodded. His body arched slightly, drawn to Yok, drawn to the feeling of being completely his.

And in that moment, nothing else existed-just the warmth of Yok's hands, the press of his lips, and the quiet, unspoken promise between them.

Longtai felt the deliberate slowness in Yok's movements-the way his hands settled firmly on his hips, the way his body pressed against him, warm and grounding. His breath hitched, anticipation coiling in his stomach as he felt the steady weight of Yok between his thighs.

A quiet gasp escaped him as his body adjusted, his senses overtaken by the slow, measured rhythm. The sensations weren't just physical; they were overwhelming, deep, something beyond anything he had ever experienced. His hands instinctively sought Yok's shoulders, fingers pressing in as if to steady himself-to hold onto something tangible amid the storm inside him.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but it kept stuttering, his chest rising and falling in uneven waves. Heat spread beneath his skin, his cheeks flushing, his heart pounding as every inch of him became hyperaware of Yok.

The vulnerability of it all struck him-how exposed he was, how open. But more than that, it was the way Yok touched him, moved with him, as if he were something precious, something to be explored and cherished rather than taken. The realization sent a shiver down his spine.

Yok's hands slid down the length of his legs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. The shift brought them closer, bodies flush, heat pressing into heat, making Longtai's breath catch. He felt every touch, every move, every shift, the weight of it, the intimacy of it.

Yok's lips found his skin-his jaw, his neck, his collarbone-each kiss slow, lingering, like he was savoring the shape of him, the way he fit beneath him. Longtai felt like he was being unraveled, layer by layer, until there was nothing left but the rawness of this moment, of this connection.

And then, Yok pressed into him.

Longtai's entire body tensed at the slow, deliberate stretch, his breath catching in his throat. It was too much and not enough all at once, a slow burn of sensation that made his head spin. His back arched slightly, his hands fisting in the fabric of Yok's shirt, searching for something to hold onto.

"Relax," Yok's voice was a quiet, steady hum against his skin, his hands moving in slow, soothing strokes down Longtai's sides. "Just breathe. Let me take care of you."

Longtai exhaled shakily, forcing himself to focus on Yok's voice, on the warmth of his hands, on the grounding presence of him. The tension in his body began to ease, his muscles slowly loosening, replaced by a different kind of awareness-one that made his skin tingle and his chest ache.

He felt... cherished. Like Yok was touching him with something deeper than desire, something that made Longtai feel fragile in the most beautiful way.

Yok moved with him, slow and deliberate, each thrust measured, each movement unhurried, like he wanted to stretch the moment into eternity. Longtai's fingers dug into his back, his nails biting into skin, needing to hold onto something, someone, as the sensations built and built, threatening to consume him whole.

"Look at me," Yok murmured, his voice soft but insistent.

Longtai forced his eyes open, his gaze locking onto Yok's. The intensity there made his breath stutter-dark, tender, hungry, something unspoken and raw that sent a tremor through him.

"You're so beautiful," Yok whispered, voice barely holding together. "You have no idea."

The words struck somewhere deep, somewhere Longtai hadn't even realized was aching. Beautiful. No one had ever looked at him like this before, touched him like this before, as if he was something worth adoring. It was overwhelming, almost too much, but he didn't want it to stop.

Yok leaned down, brushing their lips together in a soft, lingering kiss. It was different from before-slower, deeper, almost searching, as if he was trying to say something that words couldn't hold.

Longtai melted into it, his fingers slipping beneath Yok's shirt, needing to feel him, the heat of his skin, the solid warmth of his back. The moment his fingertips made contact, Yok shuddered, his rhythm faltering for just a second before he found it again.

The knowledge that he could affect Yok like this sent another wave of heat through him, his body tightening around the pleasure building slow and steady between them.

"Tell me what you need," Yok whispered, his voice thick, breathless. "I'll give you anything."

Longtai's breath hitched, his mind struggling to form words through the haze of sensation. What did he need? The answer was so simple it nearly broke him.

"You," he whispered, voice trembling. "Just... you."

Something flickered in Yok's gaze, something deeper, something unreadable. He pressed another kiss to Longtai's lips, his hand threading into his hair as he moved deeper, slower, every thrust sending sparks through Longtai's body.

The rhythm between them was almost hypnotic, a steady ebb and flow, drawing him higher, higher, until he felt like he was teetering on the edge of something vast and endless.

Yok's hand slid to his hip, his thumb brushing over sensitive skin as he pressed deeper, sending a shudder through Longtai's spine. His breath was warm against Longtai's neck, his body solid and grounding even as pleasure coiled tighter inside him.

The praise sent a ripple of heat through him, something unfamiliar and overwhelming in the best way. Perfect. He'd never been told that before. Never been made to feel that before.

Yok's rhythm became more deliberate, each movement careful yet deep, slow yet consuming. Longtai's body reacted instinctively, his breath coming in shallow gasps as pleasure built, slow and steady, a crescendo that felt infinite.

"I've got you," Yok whispered, his voice steady, reassuring. "Let go."

Longtai's entire body tensed, a tremor wracking through him as he felt the pleasure crest, slow and unstoppable, until it overtook him completely. The sensation broke through him, overwhelming and consuming, leaving him breathless and trembling as he clung to Yok, his fingers pressing into warm skin, grounding himself in him.

Yok followed soon after, his movements faltering as he pressed their foreheads together, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them. For a long moment, neither of them moved, the only sound the quiet, unsteady rhythm of their breathing, the distant echo of their heartbeats still trying to catch up.

"Are you okay?" Yok's voice was soft, his hand brushing over Longtai's cheek in a touch so gentle it nearly undid him.

Longtai swallowed, his throat too tight to speak. Instead, he nodded, his breath still unsteady.

More than okay.

He felt... alive.

Overwhelmed, undone, yet somehow whole in a way he hadn't been before.

It was too much. It was everything.

And it was beautiful.

-

Author's Note :

Sorry for the length of this chapter-it got a bit long! Writing their love scene was tricky, especially trying to show how Yok captures Longtai's beauty through his art while also conveying Longtai's feelings. It was a challenge to get the emotions just right, but I hope it feels authentic. Thanks for sticking with me!

I picture their outfits for the date as perfectly matching their vibe. It’s like their style just clicks with who they are.

See you soon!

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Love Yoon -