Shen Yue had no choice but to stay and accompany him.
Knowing that Sang Fan suffered from insomnia, he likely hadn't slept well for days. The dark circles under his eyes spoke of his exhaustion and颓废.
Why bother?
Did he always have to be so temperamental?
Just as Shen Yue was lost in thought, her wrist was yanked, the world spun, and she was pulled onto the bed.
Fortunately, the bed was soft, and Shen Yue didn't feel much pain.
On the contrary, Sang Fan, like a child lacking security, burrowed into her arms. His hot breath against her exposed skin was scorching, impossible to ignore.
His strong, firm arms held Shen Yue tightly. His shoulders trembled slightly, sniffing around her nose like a dog. Perhaps the familiar, faint scent brought him a sense of security, and his trembling stopped.
The weight of a tall adult man almost suffocated Shen Yue, but she didn't push him away, nor did she have the strength to. She could only gently pat his broad back.
"Sleep, sleep..."
Her voice, soft as a spring breeze, seemed capable of soothing all restless emotions.
Sang Fan finally stopped moving.
As the night deepened, the room became so quiet that one could clearly hear each other's breathing. Shen Yue was very sleepy, her eyes closed, and she was still murmuring to coax Sang Fan in her arms.
Sang Fan did not sleep soundly. Shen Yue didn't notice at first until a wetness on her neck woke her up groggily.
The room was dead silent. At this hour, even the moon seemed asleep, and all living things were lost in slumber.
Except for the one in her arms.
Hearing the broken sobs, Shen Yue became a little more sober. She suspected it was a lingering effect of Sang Fan's drinking.
The bedside lamp was still on, casting a limited area of warm yellow light. Shen Yue gently cupped the man's face. He looked as if he were trapped in a suffocating mire or nightmare, his forehead covered in sweat, his brows furrowed. His once handsome and proud face was now devoid of color, his throat trembling, struggling to utter an indistinct syllable that sounded like a sob.
This fragile Sang Fan was someone Shen Yue had never seen before.
She didn't know what Sang Fan had experienced to be so distressed in his dreams that he was on the verge of tears.
Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps the man's cries were too pained. Regardless, Shen Yue couldn't bear to see him so miserable.
Shen Yue knew she couldn't do much at this moment, so she tried to soften her voice and coax him gently, hoping to ease his distress in his dream.
The black-haired, black-eyed girl extended her slender, jade-like arms to embrace the man. She was so thin, so small, holding a man almost twice her size, coaxing a grown man.
Her voice was clear and soft, "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..."
"Dreams are fake."
"Don't be scared, I'm here."
Perhaps it was the girl's overly gentle and compassionate tone, or perhaps the faint, captivating fragrance emanating from her very being was too comforting to the man.
Conversely, the man seemed even more distressed.
The tall, well-built young man held her tightly, pressing her into his embrace. A hoarse, muffled sound came from his throat. No one could understand what he was saying, but his helplessness, fear, and urgency were palpable.
He desperately wanted to express something, to hold onto something, but it seemed nothing was going his way.
Shen Yue gently comforted him. The man pressed against her, squeezing her, his body burning as if on fire.
Shen Yue reached out and touched his face, feeling cold liquid. It was impossible to tell if it was tears or cold sweat.
She then released one arm that had been around the man. It seemed to alarm him. Like a wild beast lacking extreme security, he let out a dissatisfied whimper from his throat, tightening his grip around her waist. They were pressed together so tightly that no space remained between them.
Shen Yue was almost breathless from the constriction, but she didn't move. She simply maintained the pose until Sang Fan finally stopped trembling.
Eventually, Shen Yue could no longer bear it. Her eyelids felt glued together. In no time, she fell soundly asleep.
—
When Sang Fan woke up, his temples throbbed with piercing pain. His mind was hazy, and he was holding a soft, gentle body in his arms.
He pressed his temples hard, trying to relieve the pain. His thoughts slowly returned, and the events of the previous night flooded his mind.
The inexplicably terrifying nightmare had already become hazy. He only remembered the suffocating pain that even sleep couldn't alleviate, and his desperate yearning for the girl's soothing presence, acting like a pervert.
Sang Fan's body slowly stiffened. Blood rushed to his face, causing a fierce blush.
He lowered his head to look at the sleeping girl.
Perhaps she hadn't slept well during the night; her face was pale. She was curled up obediently in his arms, her delicate and beautiful face serene.
He moved, lowering his head to get closer.
The girl's hands subconsciously wrapped around him. Her soft cheek rested against his chest, and even in her sleep, she was murmuring, "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..."
Through the thin short-sleeve shirt, he felt the soft touch of her chest, like a feather brushing against him, sending a tingling sensation throughout his limbs.
In that moment, an unknown emotion surged within him, roaring and clamoring, wanting to break free.
Slowly, while fully awake, he buried his head deeply in the girl's neck, inhaling her faint fragrance greedily.
His thoughts were chaotic, his heart pounding uncontrollably, and his breathing suddenly became unsteady.
Finally, he pretended to be casual and gently left a kiss on the skin of the girl's neck, rubbing against it. Even so, the heat in his ears lingered for a long time.
Shen Yue opened her eyes around noon. Sang Fan had been too much to handle yesterday. She lay on the bed, dazed for a moment, before slowly getting up.
The room was empty. Sang Fan was long gone.
Shen Yue returned to her room to wash up.
There was steaming hot breakfast on the table, looking like it had been bought recently.
Shen Yue finished her breakfast, and the door opened. Sang Fan walked in.
He had likely just finished his run. His hair was wet, and he wore only a black sleeveless t-shirt. His features were stern.
He lifted his eyelids, glanced at the girl for a second, then casually lowered his gaze. He was indifferent and detached, completely lacking the pitiful demeanor from last night.