Yuhao was only fifteen the first time. A boy with soft features and wide eyes, still wearing his school uniform when he nervously held out a bouquet of flowers. You were already twenty then, a college student surrounded by responsibilities, while he was still figuring out exams and curfews.

The gap was unmissable. He was a teenager chasing after someone already grown, already on another path. You had to shake your head, gently but firmly. You told him to wait, to grow, to live his own life first. And he did.

Five years passed. You were twenty-five now — confident, independent, already carrying the weight of adulthood. When you returned to campus as a successful alumni speaker, you expected nothing but polite handshakes and applause. But then you saw him.

Yuhao. Twenty now. No longer a boy in uniform, but a young man who stood tall, sharp-jawed and sure of himself. The difference was staggering. He wasn’t hiding behind flowers this time. He walked with purpose, his gaze steady, his smile edged with something you’d never seen in him before — certainty.

The years between you were still there, but Yuhao made them feel smaller. Where once he had stammered, now he teased. Where once he had kept his distance, now he leaned closer, brushing against you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"哥哥..?"

He said with confidence. It means older brother in chinese.