Di was leaning into his arms, his body trembling slightly. That reliance, that quiet stillness—brought back the memory of last night rushing through Jie's mind.
—
The lights had been dim. He wasn't wearing a shirt—because it was just too hot. Only a pair of deep blue boxers hung low on his hips as he lay sprawled on the bed, not even bothering to pull up the blanket.
Years of basketball training had sculpted his body with definition—his firm chest flowing naturally into the lines of his waist and abdomen. His muscles rose and fell with a soft tension under the mix of streetlight and nighttime humidity. Each breath moved his shoulder blades and abs slightly, as if even the air could feel the weight of the exhaustion and emotion trapped inside him.
He remembered sleeping deeply, but the dream had been unusually vivid.
—
In the dream, he was back on the basketball court.
The same place where he had first confessed, and been rejected—in front of everyone.
But this time was different.
In the dream, he didn't hesitate.
When Lan turned to leave, he immediately ran forward and grabbed her from behind.
"Don't go… Lan."
His voice trembled, full of pleading.
—
That moment felt too real.
He could almost feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest. He even remembered telling himself in the dream—this time, don't let go. Hold her tight and never loosen your grip.
—
But now, Di was the one in his arms.
That heartbeat, that warmth, that familiar presence—it all matched perfectly.
And suddenly, Jie understood—
The "Lan" in his dream… was actually Di.
—
Why was he only realizing this now?
No wonder his arm had red marks all over it when he woke up.
No wonder Di had been acting strangely since morning, chugging water with his head down, avoiding eye contact with every flicker of his gaze.
Those weren't just imagination.
They were proof—
That he had held Di the entire night.
—
Jie looked down at the person in his arms.
He wanted to speak, but his throat was blocked by something heavy and unnameable.
What could he say?
How could he tell him—that last night's embrace had been a mistake?
And yet… at that moment, he truly didn't know how to explain.
—
He wasn't sure what Di was thinking.
Wasn't sure what kind of explanation would avoid hurting him.
Because he understood now—Di's "like" for him wasn't loud or obvious.
It was a gentle feeling soaked deep in time, seeping out little by little.
And his feelings for Di…
Were a mess.
A storm of emotions he couldn't even define himself.
—
"Di…"
He finally spoke, voice soft.
But just as he did, the boy in his arms stirred.
—
Di slowly pulled away, didn't look at him, and simply wiped his face with his sleeve.
Then he stood up, back turned, voice low but clear:
"Let's go. Lan's still waiting for us."
—
Jie stared at his back.
That slender frame seemed to be hiding far too much unspeakable weight—
like a door that would never fully open.
He knew then—Di had already made the choice for him.
—
And at that moment, something hit Jie for the first time.
Some words aren't hard to say.
What's hard—is whether, after saying them, you can still move forward.