Shen Yuan held Li Zhi's hand as they walked slowly along the residential community's path.
The shadow of their clasped hands flickered in the light of the ground lamps.
The boy's deliberately slowed pace made the sound of crushing leaves soft and drawn out. The folds of the girl's wide-legged white cotton pants swayed with her gait, each step measuring the distance back home.
As Shen Yuan's thumb caressed her hand, his palm applied a gentle pressure, holding Li Zhi's hand firmly within his own.
It was like an invisible chain, binding the starry night of their eighteenth year within the space between their intertwined fingers.
In the fig-scented night, the silhouette of their interlocked fingers stretched and shrank.
The veins on the back of Shen Yuan's hand were faintly visible in the shadows, fitting perfectly against the delicate curve of the girl's knuckles.
Gazing at the faint light from her apartment building at the end of the path, Shen Yuan spoke.
"We're almost there."
