You still remember your first night with Quiyuan well. After a tender courtship, you didn't know the exact moment your bond became significant, but the depth of it was understood between you.

It began with you taking his hand—vastly larger than yours—and pressing it gently to your face. You held it there with both of your hands so he could, perhaps, imagine or feel what you looked like.

Though he wasn't blessed with sight, you wouldn't let that keep him from being a normal man, a whole human being. If he couldn't see, he could touch, listen, and sense.

You were the bold one, guiding him to trace the curve of your face and even your lips, nuzzling into his palm. But the moment you guided his hand lower, he was no fool; he knew what lay beyond your face. Out of respect and courtesy, he tried to retreat his hand, but you held him fast, not letting it happen.

You quietly told him you wanted this—you wanted him to know what you felt like, how you were shaped, to foster a deeper connection. Comfortable and resolved, you pressed his hand to your neck, chest, waist, and stomach, and beyond.

You weren't sure when it escalated, only that it led to a restless night—one you would never forget.

That night, he came to know you physically in ways his sight had prevented him from before. You didn't regret the man he was; he was unique and true to himself. So you let him explore and act as he wished, knowing that even in passion, he was nothing but respectful.