Night settled softly, like it knew how important this one was.
For the first time in days—no, weeks—Xu Jin slept well. The kind of sleep that sinks deep into your bones and refuses to let go. No restless tossing, no half-awake spirals. Just warmth, calm… and Chen.
In his dreams, everything was gentle and unreal.
He was holding Chen—again and again—as if afraid the dream would take him away if he loosened his grip. His arms fit too perfectly, wrapping around a waist so slim it felt almost unreal. In the dream, he realized with startling clarity that he could hold it with just one hand.
That thought alone made dream-Xu Jin smile.
Actually—real Xu Jin smiled too.
A slow, stupid, completely unguarded smile spread across his sleeping face. Soft. Blissed out. Ridiculously satisfied.
Yun Hu crept in quietly at dawn, paws light against the floor. He sat by the bed, tail curled, eyes sharp. Breakfast time. Normally, this human was easy to deal with—poke him, step on him, yell dramatically.
But today—
Yun Hu looked up.
And froze.
Xu Jin was smiling.
Not a normal smile. Not even a happy one.
A weird one.
The kind that made Yun Hu's fur prickle.
The cat squinted, leaned back slightly, and tilted his head as if reassessing life choices. He lifted one paw… then slowly put it back down.
Nope.
This human was possessed.
With a soft, alarmed mrrp, Yun Hu turned around and bolted out of the room—choosing hunger, dignity, and survival over waking whatever that was.
Back on the bed, Xu Jin shifted slightly, hugging the pillow closer in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible—still smiling like all his wishes had finally been granted.
God had clearly been generous that night.
A little too generous.
Xu Jin woke up to silence.
The dangerous kind.
He blinked, rolled over lazily—and then his eyes landed on the clock.
9:30.
"…?!"
He jolted upright so fast the blanket flew halfway off the bed. Heart pounding, hair a mess, brain screaming I'M LATE—
Then he saw Yun Hu.
The cat was sitting near the bed, tail wrapped neatly around his paws, wearing the most smug, satisfied expression Xu Jin had ever seen on a living creature. His eyes were half-lidded. His posture relaxed. Not a single trace of hunger-induced rage.
Xu Jin frowned.
"That's… suspicious."
He leaned over and checked the bowl.
Empty.
Clean. Like it had been licked to a philosophical level of completion.
"…You ate already?" Xu Jin muttered.
Yun Hu flicked his tail once, as if to say obviously, and looked away—completely uninterested in further conversation.
Before Xu Jin could process this betrayal, a warm aroma drifted into his nose.
His movements slowed.
That smell—
He followed it like he was under a spell, eyes landing on the table.
Breakfast.
Neatly arranged. Simple, warm, real. Steam still rising faintly, like it had been prepared not too long ago. For a moment, Xu Jin just stood there, staring, his mind blank.
Then he saw the note.
Eat well. No leftovers, okay.
Yun Hu is being fed.
The handwriting was familiar. Calm. Slightly slanted. Just like the person who wrote it.
Xu Jin's throat tightened without warning.
He picked up the note carefully, as if it might disappear if he held it too hard. His chest felt strangely full—too full for someone who had just woken up late and missed nothing at all.
He glanced back at Yun Hu.
The cat opened one eye, glanced at the table, then at Xu Jin, and gave a small, approving mrrp—as if confirming: Yes. He did this. And yes, you're lucky.
Xu Jin sat down slowly, staring at the breakfast for a long second before smiling—soft, quiet, and completely defenseless.
He ate the breakfast in daze.
Xu Jin smiled to himself for exactly three seconds—
Then it hit him.
"…Wait."
His smile froze.
"Chen came to my house?"
His eyes widened. Slowly. Horribly.
"He—he saw me sleeping like a fool??"
Xu Jin snapped his head toward Yun Hu so fast his neck almost cracked.
"Hey," he whispered urgently, crouching down to the cat's level, "be honest with me."
Yun Hu stared back. Calm. Judging.
"Did I look handsome when I was sleeping?"
Yun Hu blinked once.
Then looked away.
Xu Jin's soul took minor damage.
"…Okay," he said quickly, waving his hand, "next question. Important one."
His brain betrayed him right on cue, replaying fragments of that very inappropriate, very vivid dream. Arms. Waist. The way it fit perfectly in one hand—
"Nope. Nope nope nope," Xu Jin muttered, violently shaking his head like he was trying to eject the thought physically. "That was a dream. Dreams are illegal. We do not verify dreams in real life."
He paused.
"…But it was a nice dream."
He slapped his own cheek lightly.
"Focus."
Then, dread returned.
He leaned closer to Yun Hu again, eyes sharp, voice low.
"Was I making any weird face?"
Yun Hu slowly turned his head back.
Looked at him.
Then—very deliberately—scrunched his face in visible disgust and flicked his tail before hopping off the bed.
That expression said everything.
Xu Jin collapsed backward onto the mattress.
"…I'm ruined."
He stared at the ceiling, one arm thrown over his eyes, groaning dramatically.
"I probably smiled like an idiot. Or worse. I probably laughed."
From the doorway, Yun Hu paused, glanced back once with the air of a veteran survivor, then left—clearly deciding that breakfast was safer company than this human.
Xu Jin sighed.
Then, despite himself, a stupid grin crept back onto his face.
"…Still," he murmured, softer now, "he made breakfast."
And that single thought was enough to make his heart do something dangerously happy all over again.
He got ready in record time—shower, shirt, hair roughly tamed with his fingers. He even paused in front of the mirror, leaned in a little, and inspected his face seriously.
"…Not bad," he muttered. "Definitely not bad enough to traumatize anyone."
Satisfied (or forcing himself to be), he grabbed his bag and keys. Yun Hu was sprawled on the floor, belly up, looking full, peaceful, and completely uninterested in human dignity.
Xu Jin crouched and poked him lightly.
"Behave today. Don't judge me behind my back."
Yun Hu flicked his tail.
Typical.
Xu Jin slipped on his shoes, took one last glance at the table—now empty except for the folded note Chen had left—and his lips curved up again despite himself.
With that, he stepped out, locked the door behind him, and headed for his job—
unaware that his expression was still far too soft for someone claiming to be completely normal.