There were so many words in those amethyst-gray eyes — love, care and warmth. Yukong melted only from the simple intimacy with her wife — hugging in bed after another week of work. And Yukong is still charming, smiling tiredly, silent words of love stuck in her hot breath. A tangible feeling of touch. She gently adjusts a strand of Feixiao's white hair from her forehead. She was admiring. She admired Feixiao as if she were in love with her. And she was deeply in love, which cannot be described in simple human words, only with a look full of love and actions.

It was a quiet night in the city. The soft hum of the wind resonated with Feixiao's steady breathing. Her eyelashes flutter in her sleep. And the woman is wondering: what kind of dreams does she have?

Yukong doesn't move under the blanket that wrapped them up. She just lays her head on Feixiao's chest, smiling slightly. Her tail calmed down, her cheeks turned pink from the warmth, and a wandering hand landed on her wife's stomach, feeling her rise and fall with every breath. And she slowly closes her eyes.