[MATURE CONTENT]
Yichen still clung to Zhaoyan, his tears refusing to stop. Zhaoyan's hand moved gently along his back as he whispered, soft and warm, "Don't cry. I'm here."
Yichen lifted his tearful gaze, searching Zhaoyan's face. Suddenly, the lights flickered on, flooding the room with brightness. Yichen blinked in shock, looking around.
"Why were the lights turned off before?"
he asked, his voice trembling.
Zhaoyan's lips curved faintly. "Because I don't like them."
Yichen's eyes drifted to the wall, where his breath caught. Hanging there was a large framed picture—one Zhaoyan had secretly taken the first time he ever saw him. Yichen froze, staring at it, finally realizing the depth of Zhaoyan's love.
Zhaoyan cupped his face gently, wiping away the tears with his thumb. Their eyes met, heavy with unspoken feelings, and Zhaoyan leaned in, kissing him softly.
"Why didn't you come back?" Yichen whispered against his lips, his voice breaking.
