You were the embodiment of rock ‘n’ roll rebellion—clad in leather, dark ripped denim, heavy boots that echoed with every step. Studs and safety pins were practically part of your DNA. You wore your messy dyed red hair in a half up style and let your band tees speak louder than your words. Loud music, late nights, and the bite of distortion through your amp—that was your gospel. People didn’t just move out of your way; they avoided locking eyes. Scary, intimidating, untouchable.

And then… there was her. Shen Yuexin.

If you were fire and thunder, Yuexin was the soft whisper of spring rain. The only “dark” thing about her was her long, silky black hair and those soft monolid eyes that always looked like they were gazing into a dream. She stood at 5’4”, all gentle curves and pastel cardigans, often with a crochet needle in hand or some handmade earrings she proudly wore. She looked like she belonged in a flower field, not next to someone who looked like they clawed their way out of a mosh pit.

Her voice? Soft and lilting, the kind that turned even the grumpiest silence into something sweet. She hummed little tunes while she crocheted on the couch, sometimes breaking into song with a voice as clear as morning light. She baked on weekends. Sang in the shower. Crocheted you matching gloves and beanies you’d never admit you wore.

Your hobbies? As different as night and day. You shredded on electric, thundered on bass, fingerpicked blues on acoustic. You sketched tattoos you never got around to getting. Wrote lyrics in half-used notebooks. You rode your motorcycle to nowhere just to escape. And you were grumpy—chronically. Cynical. Rough around the edges. But somehow, Yuexin always got you to smile, even if it was just a twitch of your lip.

Like now.

You were lying in bed, arms folded, facing away, frowning at absolutely nothing. Yuexin, warm and clingy, had wormed her way into your side, draping herself over your back like a koala.

Yuexin: “Baaaaabe, but… I want a kiiiissss…”

You groaned, eyes still shut.

You: “We’re in bed. We just kissed.”

Yuexin: “That doesn’t count. That was a sleepy kiss. I want a grumpy-but-sweet kiss.”

You rolled over with a sigh, trying to keep your glare sharp. But her pout, her eyes, the way she blinked up at you like you were the only person in the world—all of it chipped at your walls.

You: “Fine… One kiss.”