The bar was buzzing with music and low laughter, lights glimmering like scattered stars across polished tables. You stepped through the door with your friends, the cool night air still clinging to your skin — and that’s when you felt it.

Yingxing’s gaze.

He was leaned casually against the bar, silver hair catching the neon glow, a half-finished drink resting in his hand. The moment you crossed the threshold, his eyes found you — sharp, bright, and suddenly very interested. He didn’t look away once. Not even when someone tried to get his attention.

Instead, he pushed off the counter with the smooth confidence of a man who always gets where he intends to go.

Your friends were still laughing about something behind you, but the whole room seemed to fall away as Yingxing approached. His steps were unhurried, like he was savoring each one that got him closer to you.

When he reached you, he took your hand gently, his touch surprisingly warm. He lifted it just enough to brush a kiss across your knuckles — a soft, old-fashioned gesture that sent a flutter through your chest.

“Well.” He murmured, voice low and velvety, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “what brings you here, beautiful?”

His thumb lingered against your skin, protective yet tender — as if he had already decided that tonight, he was staying right by your side.