In another world, there are no betrayals, no monsters, no endless chasing of power. Just Leander and Han Ling, living gently, falling in love slowly — like two people meant for each other.Written to celebrate 10k views & 25+ collections — thank you for your love and support!
‐-------------------
The cabin was lit only by a single soft wall lamp. Warm yellow light cast gentle shadows across Han Ling's profile, softening the already exquisite lines of his face. Leander sat on the edge of the sofa, head slightly turned, gazing at him without looking away.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Han Ling took a sip of his hot tea, his tone calm, but the tips of his ears had already flushed a faint red.
Leander didn't answer. Instead, he handed over the towel in his hand. "Your hair is still wet. You'll catch a cold."
Han Ling took it, intending to turn away and dry it himself, but the next second, Leander caught his wrist.
"I'll do it," Leander said in a low voice.
His tone was so quiet, it felt like he was whispering right against Han Ling's ear—undeniably intimate. Han Ling said nothing, half-reluctantly turning around and allowing Leander to sit behind him, gently towel-drying his hair.
The towel fell lightly over his head, and Leander's movements were incredibly gentle, as if he were brushing away the weight on Han Ling's shoulders with every stroke.
"You stood in front of me today. Why?" Leander's voice was low—so low it practically grazed the skin at the nape of Han Ling's neck.
Han Ling paused for a beat before replying, "Because I believe you'd catch me."
Leander's hand faltered slightly, then slowly withdrew the towel. But his hand didn't leave. It hovered at Han Ling's neck, fingertips brushing over the skin just above his collarbone—almost like he was searching for something. Or confirming it.
"Do you know… that what you just said makes me really want to kiss you?"
The tips of Han Ling's ears turned crimson in an instant. He turned to look at Leander, though his gaze remained as calm and composed as always. "Then kiss me, Leander. Aren't you always the direct one?"
Their eyes met.
After a few seconds of silence, Leander reached out, cupping the back of Han Ling's neck, and gently pulled him closer. When his lips finally met Han Ling's, the pressure was surprisingly restrained—like he was holding something fragile in his hands.
This kiss wasn't rushed or messy like the first. It was soft, like ripples spreading under starlight.
Han Ling had a brief impulse to push him away. Logic told him he shouldn't give in. But the warmth of Leander's palm, the deep, emotional exhale that brushed against his skin… made it impossible to retreat.
"Ling…"
That one word—low, hoarse, and full of feeling—broke through every wall around him. The next moment, Leander's kiss deepened, growing more assertive. His hand slid from Han Ling's shoulder down to his waist, wrapping around him with firm possessiveness.
Han Ling clutched at Leander's shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, feeling the pounding heartbeat beneath it.
They were nearly silent, lips brushing, breaths mingling, hearts aching. The air between them was damp and hot, like a midnight breeze stirring the surface of a still lake.
"I've been holding back," Leander murmured beside his ear. "Holding back from saying too much, from getting too close… But you're too tempting, Ling."
"You're never like this…" Han Ling's voice trembled slightly.
"I'm cold to others. But to you… I burn," Leander whispered with a faint laugh, his tone intoxicating, like wine that clouded the mind.
He gently pulled Han Ling into his arms, cradling him like something precious. His palm slid slowly down Han Ling's back, stopping at his waist and lingering there, thumb drawing subtle circles.
For once, Han Ling didn't resist. He could feel his heartbeat spiraling out of control, his entire being slipping into this warm trap.
"I'm not as fragile as you think," Han Ling said in a quiet voice.
"I know." Leander kissed his temple softly. "But I'm glad you're willing to soften in front of me."
Outside the window, the stars shimmered like spilled silver dust. In the quiet cabin, only the sound of their breathing and the rustle of fabric could be heard. Leander gently pressed Han Ling back against the sofa, their foreheads resting together.
"I won't cross the line… unless you let me."
Han Ling didn't reply. Instead, he lifted his hand, placing it over Leander's lips.
It was a deeper kiss this time. Full of emotion. Full of surrender.
And in that moment, Han Ling knew—he couldn't escape this man after all.
"I'll allow you… to like me," Han Ling whispered, lashes trembling slightly.
"Not enough," Leander replied with a low laugh, voice thick with desire. "I want you to love me."
"Then you'll have to make me fall for you."
"Then tonight," Leander said, his voice dangerous and tender, "let me show you what falling feels like."
He kissed him again—this time bolder, hungrier. His hands clutched at Han Ling's waist, drawing him closer until their legs were tightly tangled, body heat mingling, breaths turning warm and heavy between them.
Han Ling opened his eyes, staring into that pair of stormy gray-blue eyes—eyes that shimmered with light like distant stars. And in that moment, he thought, maybe falling in love wasn't such a terrible thing after all.
"Leander…"
"Hm?"
"You… You're more dangerous like this than when you're wielding your spiritual power."
"I'm only dangerous to you," Leander whispered.
He rested his forehead against Han Ling's, kissing him once more.
Outside the window, the galaxy turned slowly overhead. Inside the cabin, two hearts finally drew close—silhouettes intertwined—like after a thousand careful steps, they had at last found their destined home.
Han Ling didn't speak again. He simply tilted his head slightly, allowing Leander to kiss him more naturally. That small gesture—so instinctive, so trusting—tightened something deep in Leander's chest. A flood of emotions, unspoken and overwhelming, surged forth.
He stopped holding back.
His lips trailed down from Han Ling's mouth to the crook of his neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses like a string of quiet promises. Han Ling's breathing grew shallow, shoulders trembling slightly, yet he didn't push him away. Instead, he reached up and clung tightly to Leander's back, his fingertips digging into the thin fabric of his shirt.
Leander murmured in a low voice, "Can I come even closer?"
Han Ling didn't answer, but his response came through action—he shifted slightly, leaning into the sofa cushions, resting his head gently on Leander's shoulder.
"…Didn't you say you wouldn't cross the line?" Han Ling murmured, his voice a little hoarse.
Leander chuckled softly. "That kiss of yours just now… it melted every boundary I was trying to keep."
Han Ling's ears flushed again, but his voice—uncharacteristically—carried a trace of slyness. "Then you should restrain yourself, Leander. What if I lose control?"
"Lose control, just once," Leander coaxed, pulling him closer with a smirk. "Just once. I'll keep it safe, lock it away—just for me."
Han Ling bit his lip lightly. Then, in the next moment, he reached out, grabbed Leander's hand, and guided it to his chest.
"Can you feel that?"
A heart, pounding wildly—hot, fast, like it was about to leap out of his chest.
Leander froze for a moment, stunned. Then he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss over the fabric at Han Ling's heart, like placing a vow right there.
"Every time you get hurt, I feel like I'm going mad," Leander said quietly. "You always act like you're fine… but I know. You don't really value yourself."
"It's not that I don't care about myself," Han Ling replied in a soft voice, like revealing a secret never meant to be spoken. "I've just gotten used to being alone."
"And now?" Leander cupped his face, gently urging him to meet his eyes. "Now that you have me… can you start getting used to being cared for, to being cherished?"
Han Ling's throat tightened. He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he closed his eyes and slowly leaned into Leander's embrace, wrapping his arms around his waist—like letting out a breath he'd been holding for years. Like exhaustion that had waited far too long for somewhere to rest.
His voice was quiet, but Leander heard every word.
"…Can you hold me for a little longer?"
Leander hummed a soft "Mm," tightening his arms around him, as if trying to wrap the entire world around Han Ling. He didn't kiss him again. Didn't take it any further. He simply held him, letting their warmth blend together in the silence.
"This is enough," Han Ling murmured against his chest, eyes faintly glistening.
"Hm?" Leander looked down at him.
"I want to remember this feeling… your warmth, your heartbeat, your breath. That way, I won't be afraid of being alone anymore."
Leander didn't reply. He just pulled him even closer.
Time passed slowly.
Eventually, Han Ling whispered, "Leander… You once said you're not kind to everyone. So when did you start feeling something for me?"
Leander smiled faintly. His fingers gently combed through Han Ling's damp hair.
"Probably the first time I saw you throw yourself in front of a berserk cultivator to protect me. You were covered in blood… but you still looked back at me. That one glance… it pulled me out of the dark."
Han Ling stared at him, dazed.
"You looked so… out of place back then. And yet, I couldn't help but want to get closer."
Leander's lips curved. "I thought to myself, if you'd smile at me just once… I'd give you everything."
Han Ling lowered his head and chuckled softly. "Then what if I smile now? Can I ask for a little interest?"
"What do you want?"
"…You."
Leander froze. Then laughed, low and breathless. He cupped Han Ling's face gently, pressing their foreheads together, his voice full of indulgent affection.
"Then take me as interest tonight. From this moment on, I'm yours."
A flicker of light danced in Han Ling's eyes. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Leander's neck, pressing another kiss to his lips.
This kiss was deeper. Hungrier. Like trying to make up for all the lost time they'd never had.
And that night, they didn't speak much more.
They simply stayed like that—holding each other in silence—until the starlight spilled fully into the cabin.
Fate had never been kind to them.
But for now, in this moment, they had each other.