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Summary
“I’ll be done in just a moment, sweet boy,” Xie Lian says. He’s elbow-deep in their sink, warm water sliding between his fingers as he washes their dishes. Iridescent suds, sharp with the scent of bergamot, lather his skin. “Thank you for being so patient.”
Hua Cheng hums softly in response. He hasn’t spoken since dinner: he’s still so far under it makes Xie Lian’s heart throb. After all, it isn’t often that Hua Cheng allows himself to indulge this headspace for long stretches of time, which makes today particularly unusual—and particularly important.