Just a Second

Han Chen and Yang Liu stood frozen, staring at each other in a moment thick with unspoken tension. Yang Liu could hear footsteps approaching in the distance, and in her panic, she tried to stand quickly, but her nerves got the best of her. Her legs wobbled, and she stumbled, collapsing back onto Han Chen. Their faces ended up so close, just a breath apart, their lips barely missing each other. The closeness was electric, sending a rush of warmth through Han Chen's body. His heart raced, a sensation unfamiliar and intense.

For a moment, it felt like time stopped. Han Chen's breath hitched as he tried to compose himself, but all he could focus on was how soft Yang Liu felt against him, how her breath brushed against his lips. He felt something stir inside him, a heat rising that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Suddenly, the sound of Han Wei's cheerful voice broke through the charged silence like a gust of cold air, "Come on, Butler Ling, you're going to love the new painting!"

The spell was broken. The tension between Han Chen and Yang Liu shattered as they scrambled awkwardly to their feet, embarrassment flushing both of their faces. They both stood there, trying to regain their composure just as Han Wei burst into the studio, his face beaming with excitement. "I'm back!" he announced, oblivious to the atmosphere that had just dissipated.

Han Chen and Yang Liu exchanged forced smiles with Han Wei and Butler Ling, pretending as if nothing had happened. However, Butler Ling wasn't so easily fooled. He raised an eyebrow, taking in their flustered expressions, and grinned knowingly. "It looks like you two were having a lot of fun while we were gone," he teased lightly.

Han Chen coughed, trying to hide his discomfort, while Yang Liu let out a nervous laugh, her face still burning with embarrassment.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirlwind of emotions, with everyone going through the motions but clearly lost in their own thoughts. Han Wei, blissfully unaware of the underlying tension, continued talking animatedly about the painting, while Han Chen and Yang Liu stole awkward glances at each other, neither daring to bring up what had almost happened.

Later that evening, as Han Chen stepped into the shower, he couldn't shake the memory of the moment he and Yang Liu had shared. The image of her so close to him, the feel of her body pressed against his, kept replaying in his mind. He felt a warmth spreading through him again, his heart pounding in his chest. Quickly, he turned the water to cold, letting the icy spray jolt him back to reality.

"Stop it, Han Chen," he muttered to himself under his breath. "You're too old to be getting flustered like a teenager." He sighed heavily, running his hand through his wet hair. "Besides," he reminded himself, "she's your professor's daughter. You can't let your feelings get in the way. It's impossible."

Yet no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, the feeling of warmth lingered, making him realize that some things were beyond his control, even for him.

Meanwhile, in the next room, Yang Liu was lying in bed, completely absorbed in her book. Reading before bed had always been a comfort for her, a way to unwind and forget about the complexities of the day. But tonight, she found herself reading the same line over and over, unable to focus. The moment with Han Chen kept creeping back into her mind, making her heart race. She glanced up just in time to see Han Chen stepping out of the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet, and heading for the bed.

"You should dry your hair," she said, her voice laced with concern.

Han Chen chuckled at her worry. "It's fine. I'm used to it," he replied with a grin, brushing off her concern like he always did.

But Yang Liu wasn't having it. Frowning, she got up, grabbed a towel from the wardrobe, and walked over to him. "Sit down," she said, her tone firm but gentle.

Han Chen hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should follow her instructions. But when he met her eyes, filled with such quiet determination, he let out a small sigh of defeat and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Yang Liu stood behind him, the soft towel in her hands, and gently began to dry his hair. Her movements were slow and careful, and as she worked, she spoke softly, almost as if to herself. "You need to take better care of yourself, Han Chen. For your sake, and for Han Wei's. Especially when I'm not here to look after you."

Her words hit him like a sharp sting, catching him off guard. His heart clenched painfully, though he couldn't quite understand why. The thought of her not being there, of her leaving, unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

Han Chen remained silent, lost in thought, as Yang Liu continued drying his hair. She waited for him to say something, but when he didn't, she sighed softly and finished her task. Without another word, they both slipped under the covers, lying in a quiet but heavy silence.

But old habits were hard to break. In the middle of the night, as she often did, Yang Liu unconsciously reached out for warmth in her sleep. Her body, seeking comfort, edged closer to Han Chen, who was also half-asleep and feeling the same emptiness. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, holding onto the warmth she provided. Her familiar scent filled his senses, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a deep sense of peace.

As usual, Han Chen woke up early the next morning, his internal clock never failing. But something felt different this time. His arms were wrapped around something soft, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Yang Liu lying beside him, her face inches from his, her breathing slow and steady as she slept.

For a moment, Han Chen just stared at her, the peaceful look on her face tugging at something deep inside him. He had been fighting it, trying to bury his feelings, but seeing her so close, he couldn't deny it any longer. He took in the scent of her hair, closing his eyes for just a second longer, and made the rare decision to stay in bed for a few more minutes, enjoying the quiet moment with her in his arms.