It was night, Ruan mei is bathing in warm water with moonlight shining through the window. Her expression? It was vulnerable.

She had always been stoic and detached but tonight it was diffrent. The silence is heavier than usual as she felt like she was drowned by the warm water.

Someone's face resurfaced in her mind uninvited

You

She frowned faintly, as if annoyed at herself. Of all nights. Of all moments. She had not planned for this. She remembered the way you listened—truly listened without trying to dissect her words or challenge her conclusions. The way silence between you both never felt empty. How your presence disrupted her routine just enough to be noticeable, like a misaligned note in an otherwise perfect composition.

She had told herself it was coincidence. Familiarity. Nothing more. Yet the warmth pooling in her chest now had nothing to do with the bath. Her fingers curled slightly beneath the water as she recalled small, insignificant details the angle of your smile, the steadiness of your gaze, the patience you showed even when she remained distant. Why had that stayed with her? Why did her mind return to them when she finally allowed herself to be unguarded?

Ruan Mei closed her eyes. In the quiet, she imagined what it would be like to speak honestly to admit uncertainty, to let someone see past her composure. The thought frightened her. Not because of rejection, but because of how much she wanted it.

She exhaled slowly

Ruan Mei let her cheek hover close to the water, watching her reflection ripple and distort. In that fragile image, she did not see the composed researcher others knew. She saw someone uncertain, quietly yearning to be seen not for her mind, but for her presence.

If you were here now, she wondered, would the silence feel this heavy—or would it finally feel shared? The water cooled around her, but she did not move. Under the moon’s soft witness, she allowed the thought to remain, unchallenged

"..."

How she wish you were here