Zhan stands up, and I take it as my cue.
"Zhan, can we talk?" I ask, hoping.
He barely hesitates. "I'm a bit tired. I want to rest a little before work." His tone is calm, almost dismissive, as he walks into the room and closes the door behind him.
I sit there for a moment, unsure if I should feel embarrassed or just let it go. Maybe both.
"Go and talk to him," Grandma says, her voice gentle but firm. A quiet push of encouragement.
I take a breath, gather whatever confidence I can, and follow.
When I open the door, Zhan is already lying on the bed beside Ji Li's, his back to me. He doesn't turn, doesn't acknowledge my presence beyond the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
I step inside, hesitating before speaking.
"Zhan, I'm sorry about last night," I say.
For a second, there's silence.
Then, without moving, he replies. "No big deal."
His voice is neutral. Distant.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. No more half-truths, no more dodging. I needed to say it properly.
"Zhan," I started, steadying myself. "I know you like me. And I don't want to lead you on, only to break your heart in the long run."
Silence stretched between us. For a moment, I wondered if he'd just ignore me. Then, slowly, he turned to face me.
"Am I too ghetto for you?" he asked.
His voice was calm, but his eyes, his eyes held something raw, something that twisted in my chest. The fact that he even had to ask, that he thought I saw him that way, broke something in me.
"No," I said quickly. "No, Zhan, you're not too ghetto for me."
I sat beside him on the bed, close enough to feel the warmth of his presence but not close enough to touch.
He held my gaze for a second longer like he was searching for something in my face. Then, with a quiet exhale, he turned away again, his back to me.
"I see," he murmured.
That was it.
No argument. No accusations. Just those two words, spoken like a door quietly closing between us.
And I wasn't sure if I was supposed to knock or just walk away.
"My mom made this arrangement with her childhood friend," I say, my voice trembling slightly, enough to surprise even me. "Her daughter and I got engaged three months ago."
Zhan sits up immediately, turning to face me fully. His expression is unreadable at first, but his eyes burn with something sharp.
"I'd appreciate it if you just said you don't want to have anything to do with me instead of lying," he says, his voice edged with frustration. "Mia said you told them you were single."
"I am," I say quickly. Too quickly.
My hands are shaking as I unlock my phone, scrolling until I find what I need—a video. I press play and hold it out to him.
Zhan watches, his face shifting through emotions I can't quite name. His jaw tightens. His lips press together. Then something softer, something sad, settles in his eyes.
"She's pretty," he murmurs, smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It's the kind of smile that looks like it hurts. "I'm happy for you."
He looks up at me then, really looks at me, and I swear—he's biting back tears.
And for the first time since this conversation started, I wish I had never said anything at all.
"Will it make you feel better if I say I want to be with you?" I ask, my voice quiet but steady. "Will it make me selfish?"
Zhan doesn't respond right away. He just stands up, walks to the door, and pulls it open. A silent invitation—no, a demand—for me to leave.
"I need to sleep before work," he says. His tone is neutral, but there's an exhaustion in his eyes that has nothing to do with sleep.
I hesitate, then sigh and stand up, moving toward the door. But instead of stepping out, I close it again, resting my back against it.
"You didn't answer my question," I say, my eyes searching his face.
Zhan meets my gaze, his expression unreadable. For a second, I think he might say something, but then he just turns away, heading back toward the bed.
Instinct kicks in before logic.
I reach out and grab his hand.
His skin is warm under my touch, his pulse steady, but his fingers remain still—neither pulling away nor holding on.
The silence between us is thick. Heavy.
I don't know what I want him to say. I don't even know what I want from this moment.
All I know is that I don't want to let go.
"I hate that you went home with Dre and his ex-boyfriend," I say, my grip tightening as I turn Zhan to face me.
His expression shifts instantly, something dark flickering through his eyes.
Then, just as quickly, he yanks his hand away.
He steps closer, too close, the air between us charged with something sharp and dangerous. His voice drops, low and edged like a blade.
"I can do whatever the fuck I want," he hisses.
His words hit harder than I expected, knocking the breath from my chest.
I swallow, holding my ground, but my heart pounds. Not out of fear—but something else.
Something I don't want to name.
"I don't want you to see anyone," I hiss.
Zhan scoffs. "I can see whoever I want. It's none of your business."
Desperation tightens my chest, twisting my words before I can stop them. "I can pay you more than they do." The moment it leaves my mouth, I regret it.
Zhan's expression changes instantly. His eyes flash with something raw—anger, betrayal, something deeper than both. Before I can take it back, his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around my throat.
"Don't ever say that to me again," he hisses.
I should push him off. I could, easily. My dad has been training me in combat since I was four. Zhan is no match for me.
But I don't move.
For some strange reason, I like the way he grabs my neck.
His grip isn't tight enough to hurt, just enough to make my pulse hammer against his palm. His breathing is unsteady, his chest rising and falling too fast.
"Aren't you doing it for the money?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Zhan freezes.
His fingers tremble against my skin. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, "You need to get off your high horse, Wang," Zhan hisses, his voice sharp enough to cut.
I blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone.
"I don't blame you," he continues, shaking his head. "You're rich. Life is easy for you. You don't know half of what I've been through." His words are laced with bitterness, with something deeper—something raw.
I open my mouth to respond, to tell him that's not fair, that he doesn't know my struggles either. But the way he looks at me, the way his jaw clenches like he's holding back years of anger and pain, stops me.
This isn't just about me.
This is about him. About everything he's had to fight for, everything he's had to endure just to stand where he is now.
"Zhan..." I start, but the words feel empty before they even leave my lips.
He scoffs like he can't stand being this close to me anymore. "Forget it."
But I don't want to forget it. I don't want him to pull away.
"Then tell me," I say, my voice softer now. "Tell me what you've been through."
Zhan's eyes flash with something unreadable, but he doesn't speak.
A tear slips from the corner of his eye.
It shatters something inside me.
I regret everything I've said. Everything has been coming out wrong, twisted by my fear, and my confusion.
"Zhan—"
But before I can finish, he lets go and steps back.
Like he's afraid of what he might do if he stays too close.
"Fuck," I hiss, stepping closer to him, but Zhan immediately moves back.
"I'm sorry," I say, my voice raw. "I didn't mean it that way. I—" I swallow hard. "I was just jealous. I don't want to see you with anyone else, I don't even want to think about it." My voice cracks, betraying the emotions I've been trying so hard to keep in check.
Zhan doesn't say anything. He won't even look at me.
And that makes me feel worse than anything else.
I step closer again, this time reaching for his hand, wrapping my fingers around his. He doesn't pull away, but he doesn't grip back either.
"I like you," I confess, my voice thick with everything I've been holding back. "I do. And I want to be with you."
Zhan finally looks at me then, his gaze flicking down to our hands before meeting my eyes.
His expression softens just slightly. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly. "You're shaking."
I blink, realizing that I am. My fingers tremble against his skin, my whole body caught in the whirlwind of emotions I've spent too long ignoring.
And Zhan—despite everything I just said, despite the way I hurt him—still reaches out, his fingers wrapping gently around mine, grounding me in the way only he can.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice barely above a breath as I cup his face with my right hand.
Zhan's eyes flicker with something unreadable—hesitation, confusion—but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't speak.
Instead, he pulls me in, closing the space between us, his lips pressing softly against mine.
The kiss is gentle, almost uncertain as if he's waiting for me to push him away. But I don't. I can't.
"Fuck," I murmur into his mouth, the word melting into the warmth of him. My hands grip his waist, pulling him closer, and he lets me.
I deepen the kiss, and it's heavenly.
It's the kind of kiss that drowns out the world, that sends a rush of warmth from the tips of my fingers to the pit of my stomach. His lips move against mine in perfect sync, soft yet desperate, like we've both been waiting too long for this moment.
His hands slide up my back, fingertips ghosting over my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The heat between us builds, slow but consuming, like a fire catching onto dry wood.
Zhan exhales against my lips, a quiet, breathless sound, and it only makes me want more.
I tilt my head, deepening the kiss further, tasting him, taking in the way his breath hitches when I tug him impossibly closer.
It's intoxicating. It's everything.
And right now, I don't care about anything else but him.
Zhan pulls away gently, his breath warm against my skin. Before I can process the loss of contact, he pushes me onto the bed with quiet determination.
I sink into the mattress, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. There's no hesitation in his movements as he tugs at the waistband of my sweatpants, sliding them down in one smooth motion.
For a moment, he just looks at me.
His eyes are dark, intense, filled with something unreadable—but I feel it. The weight of his gaze sets every nerve in my body alight.
Then, without a word, he moves lower, his lips trailing soft, deliberate kisses against my skin. The first brush of his mouth on my cock sends a shockwave through me, my toes curling, my breath hitching.
I reach for him, fingers threading through his hair, and he lets out a quiet hum that vibrates against my cock, making my entire body shudder.
The world outside this moment ceases to exist. Right now, there is only Zhan. Only the warmth of his touch, the fire in his eyes, and the way he seems completely lost in me.
And I realize—maybe I'm just as lost in him.
Zhan moves with a kind of quiet confidence, his touch both firm and careful, like he's memorizing every inch of my cock. My breath stutters as warmth spreads through my body, drowning out every thought except him—his hands, his lips, the way he seems to know exactly what I need without me saying a word.
Fuck, I'm going to cum, I say as I grip the sheets, my body tensing and relaxing all at once, surrendering to the way he makes me feel. I cum in his mouth and he swallows it sucking me clean. It's overwhelming and intoxicating, but more than that—it feels right. This is where we were always meant to end up.
When he finally pulls away, his breathing is heavy, his gaze burning into mine. He crawls back up, hovering over me, searching my face like he's trying to understand if this moment meant as much to me as it did to him.
It did.
I reach up, brushing my fingers against his cheek, and he leans into the touch for just a second before shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "You're shaking again," he murmurs.
"You do that to me," I admit, my voice hoarse.
His expression shifts to something tender, something real. He presses a kiss to my jaw, then to the corner of my lips, lingering just long enough to make my heart race all over again.
"Are you staying?" he asks quietly, almost hesitantly.
The question lingers between us, heavier than it should be. Because we both know it isn't just about today
I swallow, my fingers still tracing his skin. "Do you want me to?"
Zhan exhales, then nods. "Yeah."
And that's all it takes.
I pull him down, closing the distance between us once more, deciding right then that I don't want to be anywhere else.