Liu Sumeng opened his mouth on instinct, "I'm sor--"
"Shh," Yuan Xuelan just shushed him, "Don't say that." His face scrunched up in distaste. "Won't you come sit next to me? Please?"
With a slight nod, he did just that, pulling out a stool next to Xuelan's bedside. Liu Sumeng hated how awkward it felt.
"Xuelan--"
"Do you regret what happened back at the Wayward Wind Temple?"
Those dark eyes refused to look away, even when Liu Sumeng jolted from the strange anxiety that built up within.
Such a question! Annoyance welled up thickly, "Of course-"
But Xuelan quickly reached for his hands and held them within his, "I don't."
"..." An unnamed pressure welled around Liu Sumeng's heart. For the past several months he was haunted day and night by the events at the temple! Even now he shuddered at the memory. The terrible stain on red. Warmth that escaped his hands and Xuelan's icy blue lips.