Anxin's POV)
The moment I step out of the hospital—
I see him.
Of course I do.
Wang Hedi is leaning against his car like he belongs there... like he's been there forever... like the entire world can wait, but he won't leave.
How long has he been standing there?
A strange warmth spreads in my chest.
I ignore it.
"You're still here?" I ask, crossing my arms like it doesn't matter.
(It does.)
"I said I would be," he replies simply.
"For two hours?"
"I had time."
He never has time.
I stare at him for a second longer than I should.
Why does this feel... different today?
"Idiot," I mutter.
"Doctor," he replies instantly.
And just like that—
I almost smile.
Almost.
—
(Hedi's POV)
She looks tired.
That's the first thing I notice.
Not the way she's pretending to be annoyed.
Not the way she avoids my eyes.
Just—
Tired.
She does that when she overworks herself.
Doesn't eat. Doesn't rest.
And somehow expects me not to notice.
"I'm fine," she says before I even ask.
I didn't say anything.
...She knows me too well.
"You didn't eat," I say.
She blinks. "What?"
"You skip meals when you're stressed."
She looks at me like she wants to argue.
Then pauses.
Because she knows I'm right.
"I'll eat later."
"No."
Her eyes narrow slightly.
"No?"
"You're coming with me."
There's a pause.
Then—
"Absolutely not."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
God, I've missed this.
—
(Anxin's POV)
Why does arguing with him feel so... normal?
So easy?
Like nothing ever changed.
"didi—"
"You're tired," he says calmly.
"That's not your decision."
"It is today."
I stare at him.
He stares back.
And I hate how my heart does this stupid little thing every time he looks at me like that.
Like I matter.
Like I always have.
"...Fine," I sigh.
His lips curve slightly.
"I knew it."
"Don't get used to it."
"Too late."
Unbelievable.
—
(Hedi's POV)
She gave in.
She always does.
Not because she's weak.
Because she trusts me.
And that—
That's the one thing I can't afford to break.
—
The drive is quiet.
But not empty.
I can feel her presence beside me.
Soft. Familiar.
Dangerous in a way no one else is.
I catch her looking at me.
Just for a second.
She looks away immediately.
Cute.
"Say it," I say.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"No, I wasn't."
"You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Think too much."
She huffs softly.
"And you don't think at all."
"I think about what matters."
She turns slightly. "Oh really? And what matters?"
I don't hesitate.
"You."
—
(Anxin's POV)
...Why does he say things like that so easily?
My heart literally forgets how to function for a second.
"That's not funny."
"I'm not joking."
I look away immediately, staring out the window like the streetlights are suddenly very interesting.
Why does this feel different today?
Why does he feel different?
Or maybe—
I'm the one changing.
—
The car stops.
I look outside.
My house.
"...You brought me home?"
"You need rest."
"And food."
I turn toward him, confused.
"You waited for hours... just to bring me home?"
"I adapted."
That makes me laugh.
A real one.
And his eyes—
They soften.
Just a little.
And I hate how much I notice that.
—
(Hedi's POV)
She's laughing.
I don't hear that enough.
Not because she doesn't laugh—
But because I'm usually not there to see it.
I want to fix that.
...That's dangerous.
—
(Anxin's POV)
We don't move.
We don't speak.
We just sit there.
And somehow—
This silence feels louder than everything that happened today.
"didi..."
He looks at me immediately.
Always.
Like he's been waiting.
"You scared me today."
There.
I said it.
His expression changes.
Just slightly.
"I was fine."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
I hold his gaze.
And this time—
I don't look away.
"Losing you."
Silence.
Real silence.
The kind that makes your chest feel tight.
He doesn't respond right away.
Doesn't brush it off.
Doesn't make a joke.
Instead—
He leans a little closer.
Not enough to touch.
But enough to make my breath hitch.
"You won't lose me."
"That's not something you can promise."
"It is to you."
Why does he sound so sure?
Why do I want to believe him?
"You're impossible," I whisper.
"And you're still here."
That again.
That line again.
And this time—
It feels like something more.
—
I open the door.
Step out.
But I don't walk away.
Not yet.
I lean down slightly, looking back at him.
"Didi."
"Hmm?"
"Try not to get hurt tonight."
A small pause.
Then—
"Stay."
My heart stops.
"What?"
"Stay a little longer."
I blink.
What is he saying?
He looks at me—
Not cold.
Not distant.
Just... him.
The boy I grew up with.
The one who used to sit outside my house during storms because I was scared of thunder.
The one who never left.
"I don't like it when you leave like this," he says quietly.
Something in my chest melts.
Completely.
"You're terrible at saying things properly," I whisper.
"And you still understand me."
That—
That's not fair.
At all.
I hesitate.
Just for a second.
Then—
"...Okay."
I close the door and walk around the car, opening the passenger side again and sitting back inside.
His eyes widen slightly.
Just for a moment.
Like he didn't expect me to actually come back.
"Just for a few minutes," I add quickly.
He nods.
"Just a few."
Neither of us believes that.
—
We don't talk.
We don't need to.
I lean back in my seat.
He rests his arm on the steering wheel.
Close.
Not touching.
But close enough that I can feel the warmth.
And somehow—
That's worse.
Why is this so... comfortable?
Why does it feel like this is where I belong?
I close my eyes for a second.
Just a second.
And when I open them—
He's looking at me.
Of course he is.
"What?" I whisper.
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I know."
"Creepy."
"Liar."
I smile.
Soft.
Uncontrollable.
And he sees it.
Of course he does.
—
(Hedi's POV)
She stayed.
Just a few minutes—
But she stayed.
And that's enough.
For now.
Because if I let myself want more—
I might not stop.
—
(Anxin's POV)
After a while, I open the door again.
This time—
I don't hesitate.
"Goodnight, Didi."
"Goodnight, Xinxin."
I step out.
Walk toward my house.
And just before going inside—
I turn back.
The car is still there.
He hasn't left.
He's watching.
Making sure I get in safely.
Like always.
Some things never change.
And maybe—
I don't want them to.