The late spring sun filtered through the canopy of leaves, scattering soft, golden light across the quiet garden. Everything around seemed serene, touched by warmth and calm, yet Thiên Dực couldn't find peace.
He sat on the porch, a book open in his hands, but his eyes refused to settle on the words. The world felt tranquil, almost idyllic, but his thoughts churned like a storm beneath the surface. Something was changing—an invisible shift creeping into his life, one he couldn't quite grasp, couldn't name, but felt in the depths of his bones.
A gentle knock broke the stillness.
Thiên Dực's head lifted, his chest tightening with an inexplicable unease. Slowly, he rose and moved toward the door.
When the door swung open, a familiar figure stood there. Huyết Minh.
He held a bag of fresh fruit in one hand, his expression warm, his smile effortlessly bright. But his eyes—those clear, glacial eyes—carried a glint that whispered something deeper, darker.
"Hello, Thiên Dực," Huyết Minh greeted softly. "I brought you some fruit. Thought you might like it."
Thiên Dực's brows lifted, surprise flickering before melting into reluctant gratitude.
"Oh. Thank you," he said with a polite smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his guarded eyes. The gesture felt kind, almost sweet, though an odd tension lingered in the air between them.
Huyết Minh chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck with feigned shyness.
"I've noticed you tend the garden often. It's… beautiful. I actually bought a few rare seedlings you don't seem to have here yet. Thought they might suit your garden."
Thiên Dực blinked, glancing at the bag, then back at Huyết Minh. He hadn't expected the man to pay attention to such trivial details about his habits. A faint, reluctant warmth touched his chest as he murmured, "You… notice everything, don't you? That's… thoughtful. Thank you."
As Thiên Dực reached for the bag, Huyết Minh's fingers brushed his—lingering a fraction longer than necessary.
"I'll help you bring it inside," Huyết Minh said smoothly before Thiên Dực could protest. "Wouldn't want to trouble you more."
There was something in the way he stepped across the threshold, his presence spilling into the space like water, subtle but inescapable. His eyes swept the house—not casually, but deliberately—memorizing each corner, each object, each door. When they reached the kitchen, he set the fruit on the counter, his gaze lingering briefly on a cabinet.
"Hmm," Huyết Minh murmured, tapping a finger lightly against the wood. "This hinge is loose. Do you want me to fix it?"
Thiên Dực gave a small, surprised laugh. "You notice that too? I keep forgetting to get around to it. If you don't mind…"
"Not at all."
From the small bag at his side, Huyết Minh produced a set of tools—oddly convenient, as though he had anticipated the opportunity. As he worked, Thiên Dực watched, a quiet unease threading through his thoughts.
Why… does he always seem prepared?
Trying to shake the tension, Thiên Dực teased lightly. "You're not just good at giving gifts, huh? Seems like you're good at fixing things, too."
Huyết Minh's lips curled faintly. For a moment, his eyes flashed with something Thiên Dực couldn't name—something sharp, possessive.
"I have to be good," he murmured, his voice low, almost intimate. "There's… a lot more I plan to do for you."
The words hung in the air, heavier than they should. Thiên Dực's breath caught briefly, though he forced a polite smile to his lips. He didn't ask what Huyết Minh meant—he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
When the work was done, Huyết Minh wiped his hands with a small cloth, turning to Thiên Dực with an easy, practiced smile.
"Need help with anything else? I'm free. Just trying to… get to know my neighbors better."
Thiên Dực shook his head, his own smile tight. "No, that's enough. Thank you, Huyết Minh."
As Thiên Dực turned away, Huyết Minh's smile deepened—still gentle, but tinged with something colder, subtler. His gaze swept the room once more, not with idle curiosity, but with the satisfaction of someone staking silent claim.
Under his breath, only for himself, he whispered,
"You won't need anyone else but me."
---
The next morning, Thiên Dực knelt in the back garden, fingers deep in the cool, damp soil. The air was soft, the morning sun barely warm, the scent of earth and young plants grounding him, quieting his restless thoughts.
As he lowered another seedling into its place, a shadow fell beside him. He glanced up, startled—Huyết Minh again, crouched nearby, watching with a look far softer than yesterday's.
"You're good at this," Huyết Minh said gently, his voice quiet, almost reverent. "The way you care for them… I want to learn."
Thiên Dực offered a faint, modest smile. "I didn't know anything at first, either. I made plenty of mistakes. You just… learn as you go."
As Thiên Dực adjusted the soil, Huyết Minh's hand moved, deliberate yet subtle, resting lightly atop Thiên Dực's for just a second—long enough to draw a spark of awareness between them.
Thiên Dực's eyes lifted, catching Huyết Minh's gaze. But the man's expression remained calm, unbothered, as if nothing had happened.
"Ah, sorry," Huyết Minh murmured, his tone soft, casual. "Clumsy hands."
"It's fine. Just… careful next time," Thiên Dực replied, a slight crease in his brow.
But Huyết Minh's lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile, and as they continued to work, his nearness lingered—too close when they lifted a heavy pot together, too close when he leaned to brush soil from his fingers. Each touch was small, fleeting, easy to dismiss… yet together, they began to weave a tension Thiên Dực could no longer ignore.
After a while, Huyết Minh broke the silence, his voice quiet.
"Do you grow these because you like them? Or… is there another reason?"
Thiên Dực paused, then smiled softly, his tone distant.
"I like them. They bring… peace. Quiet."
Huyết Minh's eyes softened, but deep within, something tightened—a pull, sharp and possessive. Peace… Yes, Thiên Dực was his peace, his anchor. Not the garden. Not the soil. Him.
Quietly, as if speaking only to himself, he whispered,
"Yes. Peace…"
Thiên Dực glanced at him, puzzled. But Huyết Minh only smiled faintly, saying nothing more.
---
When their work was done, Thiên Dực rose, brushing soil from his hands, eyes scanning the neat rows of seedlings with quiet satisfaction. Yet beneath the calm, a faint unease lingered—something he couldn't shake.
"All set," he said lightly. "Just water them regularly and they'll grow fine."
Huyết Minh's eyes lingered on him, glinting faintly.
"Thank you. With you guiding me… everything feels easier."
He stepped closer, his gaze holding Thiên Dực's for a heartbeat longer than comfort allowed. Then, with a faint, knowing smile, he pulled back, leaving the tension unspoken but heavy in the air.
Thiên Dực gave a small, polite smile. "If there's nothing else, I'll head back."
"Of course," Huyết Minh replied softly, his tone gentle yet laced with something unyielding. "And next time… I'll ask for your help again."
Thiên Dực nodded, turning to leave.
Huyết Minh watched his retreating figure, the softness of his smile unmoving while his eyes, for just a flicker, gleamed with a quiet, possessive light.
Thiên Dực might not know it yet, but he was already his.
---
End of Chapter 4