Yan Mo turned to face me, and for a brief moment, he did not speak.
He simply looked.
There was a pause between us that stretched slightly longer than it should have, not because anything needed to be said, but because something in that moment held his attention without warning.
The moonlight filtered through the trees and settled over me quietly, casting a soft glow that made everything appear calmer than it truly was, and the damp strands of my long hair clung lightly against my shoulders and back as they reflected that faint light.
My skin still carried the chill from the night air, and against it, my features stood out more clearly, my face pale from the cold with a natural softness that contrasted with the sharpness that usually defined my expression, while my lips held a faint color that seemed more noticeable under the quiet light.
He did not move immediately.
And he did not look away.
I noticed it.
Of course I did.
