It was almost funny—how Jiyan, your boyfriend, the man whose strength could shake the battlefield, seemed so… careful with you.

He respected you so much, it almost held him back. Sometimes, when you curled up in his arms, you’d feel him stiffen for a moment, as though reminding himself you weren’t fragile porcelain. Other times, you caught the way his gaze lingered on your lips, then drifted away quickly, as if the simple act of kissing you was too much of an indulgence he hadn’t yet earned.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. Far from it. He craved the closeness, the intimacy, the right to cup your face and kiss you until the world outside stopped existing. But in his mind, you weren’t someone he could just take from. You were someone to be cherished, to be approached with care.

So, there were moments when he’d stand close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin, yet he’d hold back—hands flexing at his sides instead of pulling you in. He’d press his lips to your forehead, your temple, even your hand… but not your mouth. Not until you made the first move, tilting your chin up, closing the distance.

And every time you did, the way he kissed you then—slow, reverent, as if it were both his greatest privilege and his deepest vow—reminded you of just how much he valued you.

Jiyan didn’t forget he was your partner. He just thought loving you meant respecting every boundary so much, he sometimes forgot there were none between you anymore.