"I Am Not Worth It"
Kabul, Afghanistan;
Diablos's Villa, 09:00;
Rong Xinghe stirred softly, her body instinctively reacting to the gentle warmth of the morning sun streaming through the narrow gaps in the curtains. The golden light danced across the room, bathing it in a fiery, ethereal glow. She blinked a few times, her vision adjusting to the brilliance. As her senses sharpened, she became aware of the firm surface beneath her head—a lap, warm and familiar.
Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze traveled upward, confirming her suspicions. Xi Yuan was there, his strong frame leaning against the padded headboard, his eyes closed in serene slumber. Shadows of fatigue lingered on his handsome face, evidence of a restless night.
Her fingers grazed the soft fabric of his shirt, a pang of guilt tugging at her heart. Had he stayed like this all night, sacrificing his comfort just to ensure hers? The thought tightened her throat, filling her with silent gratitude.