The apartment was cloaked in the kind of thick, oppressive darkness that only truly deep night could offer.
Yu Han stirred, a strange chill raising goosebumps on his arms. He blinked, trying to make sense of the faint silhouette seated on the edge of his bed. His heart gave a lurch, a sudden, sharp thud against his ribs.
"Li Hao? Is that… is that really you?"
He rubbed his eyes vigorously, the dreamlike fuzziness refusing to clear.
The digital clock on his nightstand glowed stubbornly: 3:38 AM.
It was Li Hao. Sitting there, in the dark, barely illuminated by the faint city glow filtering through the curtains.
"What in the world are you doing here? At this hour? How did you even –"
Li Hao didn't answer immediately. He simply reached out a hand, cold and trembling, finding Yu Han's in the darkness.
His grip was surprisingly gentle, yet firm. Yu Han's questions died on his lips as he felt the dampness on Li Hao's skin.
"I'm leaving, Yu Han. Leaving China. Forever."
Yu Han's breath hitched. He strained his eyes, and in the gloom, he could just make out the glint of tears tracking down Li Hao's face.
The man who was a force of nature, a ruthless, unyielding presence, was breaking down. Yu Han felt his own heart sink, a leaden weight in his chest.
"Li Hao… you're crying. What – what happened?"
" I… I just needed to see you one last time. Before… before I go."
He squeezed Yu Han's hand, a desperate plea in the gesture. The raw vulnerability in Li Hao's usually sharp eyes was a sight Yu Han never thought he'd witness. It was utterly disarming.
"My flight… it's in a few hours. I have to go now. Please, take care of yourself."
Li Hao started to pull his hand away, a finality in his movement as he began to push himself up.
But before he could fully rise, an instinct Yu Han didn't know he possessed took over. He pulled back, surprisingly strong, tugging Li Hao back down onto the bed.
Their eyes met, a collision of confusion, pain, and something unspoken.
"Don't go. Not now." Yu Han said in desperate urgency.
Without another word, Yu Han pulled the edge of his blanket up, silently inviting, almost demanding, Li Hao to stay, to disappear with him into the folds of warmth. Li Hao hesitated for a moment, then, with a broken sigh, he let himself be pulled.
He shifted closer, drawing Yu Han into a tight embrace. Yu Han's head came to rest against Li Hao's broad chest.
In the profound silence of the room, he could clearly hear the frantic, uneven rhythm of Li Hao's heartbeat against his ear. A primal beat, full of pain and unspoken words.
They stayed like that, motionless, for several long minutes, the only sound the frantic thrumming of a heart about to be severed from its roots.
Then, the dam broke. Li Hao's body began to tremble violently. A guttural sob ripped from his throat, and the tears, once a quiet trickle, now streamed, soaking Yu Han's hair. This wasn't just sadness; it was a torrent of grief, a testament to deep, hidden feelings finally unleashed.
Yu Han pushed his body slightly up, leaning back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on Li Hao's tear-streaked face.
His fingers, almost without conscious thought, reached out, gently caressing Li Hao's cheek, wiping away the warm tears.
Li Hao was openly, harshly crying now, his face contorted in a way Yu Han had never imagined possible. It was the first time Li Hao had cried for anyone since his mother's death, a fact that weighed heavily in the silent room.
Li Hao's hand shot out, grabbing Yu Han's, holding it against his wet cheek.
"I'm… I'm so sorry, Yu Han. So incredibly sorry. My reckless words… everything I said… it made you hurt. I'm truly sorry, Yu Han."
He was sobbing, his words broken by gasps for air. Yu Han couldn't bear it anymore.
The sight of this powerful, unyielding man dissolving into such raw pain was too much. He pulled Li Hao closer again, gently stroking his head, running his fingers through Li Hao's hair.
"Shhh, Li Hao. Please, don't cry. It's… it's okay. I'm the one who overrated things sometimes. Please, stop crying now."
Li Hao pulled back slightly, his eyes, red and swollen, searching Yu Han's face.
"I'm going away from you… forever. Now… now I'll never hurt you again. My presence only seems to bring you pain…"
A single, traitorous tear escaped the corner of Yu Han's eye, tracing a path down his temple and into his hair. He wanted to hide it, to deny the sudden, sharp ache in his own chest, but it was too sudden, too overwhelming.
He leaned forward, his hands cupping Li Hao's face, holding him gently but firmly. The gap between them closed slowly, agonizingly, until Yu Han's soft, pink lips met Li Hao's.
At first, Li Hao was frozen, shocked into stillness. But then, a primal instinct took over. His hands rose, mirroring Yu Han's, cupping the back of Yu Han's head, deepening the kiss with a desperate intensity.
This was a goodbye kiss, a final, fervent prayer, and it had to be memorable.
Their tongues intertwined, a dance of sorrow and longing, sending shivers through their bodies, a desperate clinging to a moment that was already slipping away. Yet, somehow, amidst the storm, they both held a fragile semblance of control.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, a soft pop echoing in the quiet room, their lips were swollen, eyes locked. Li Hao's eyes were still bloodshot, and another tear, fat and heavy, spilled over, tracing a path down his cheek.
"I… I LIKE YOU, YU HAN."
The words, so simple yet so profound, sent shivers down Yu Han's spine. His mind reeled.
"He likes me?" Confusion warring with a sudden, surging hope he hadn't dared to acknowledge, left him speechless. His breathing became uneven, ragged. He could only stare at Li Hao's face, searching for answers in the depths of his pain.
But before Yu Han could form a single syllable, Li Hao spoke again, his voice thick with self-loathing.
" Yu Han, I'm so sorry. I made your life miserable. You don't have to like me. You… you can hate me with all your might. But please… please forgive me. I promise… I'll never come to you again."
His words were a knife, twisting deep in Yu Han's gut. Never come to you again. The confession, the apology, the promise of self-exile – it was all too much.
He wanted to scream, to pull Li Hao back, to tell him what those words meant, but his lips were sealed, paralyzed by the sudden, crushing weight of it all.
Li Hao slowly, reluctantly, got up from the bed. He leaned down, placing a gentle, lingering kiss on Yu Han's forehead, a silent farewell.
Then, without another word, he turned, and slipped out of the window, disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom as silently as he had arrived.
Yu Han remained there, alone, in the same position, slumped against the headboard. Li Hao's words – I like you, Yu Han – played like a broken video cassette in his mind, looping endlessly, each repetition a fresh stab to his heart.
His chest ached, a hollow, agonizing void where hope had briefly flickered. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he would never get a chance to see Li Hao again.
Their fate, it seemed, had decreed that their paths must diverge, irrevocably.
Slowly, Yu Han lay down, curling into a tight ball, pulling the blanket up to his chin. His eyes, the floodgates finally released, became a waterfall.
He cried, not just a quiet weeping, but a primal, guttural sob that shook his entire body, all his might, all his buried feelings, pouring out into the desolate quiet of the night.
He cried until the first slivers of dawn painted the sky, a cruel reminder that a new day had come, bringing with it the crushing reality of a love lost before it even had a chance to bloom.