After what felt like an eternity—months, maybe even years—the esteemed General Jiyan finally returned to the city and, most importantly, to you. He looked as composed and commanding as ever, but the moment his gaze landed on you, it softened into something undeniably tender. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as though trying to make up for all the time lost. You smiled for him, reassured him, even whispered how much you’d missed him. And you had. Truly, you had.

But something felt... off. Even if he wouldn’t admit it aloud, Jiyan noticed the subtle shifts in your demeanor. He wasn’t one to miss details, especially not when it came to you. Your smiles felt a little too practiced, your touches hesitant, as though you weren’t sure how to close the distance that time and absence had created. He didn’t press you about it—not yet—but he felt it in the way you hugged him back, as though you were unsure if he was truly there or if this was just another fleeting dream.

From your side, it wasn’t a lack of love, nor had your heart wavered from him. You still adored him, still found comfort in his presence. But the waiting—days blending into weeks, and weeks into months without him—had taken its toll. You had endured so much, hoping, worrying, and wondering if he would ever come back. Now that he was here, the familiarity of him, of what you’d once had, felt distant and strange. Even curling up beside him at night felt surreal, as if he might disappear the moment you closed your eyes.

Jiyan noticed it all but gave you space, his patience as steady as the man himself. He stayed close, offering small reassurances without pushing, determined to prove that he was here to stay this time—no more leaving, no more long waits. And though it was hard for you to bridge that gap immediately, deep down, you knew he would wait for as long as it took.