On the seventh morning, Lu Xiao woke up for the first time without an episode.
Sunlight trickled in through the entrance, a fine beam landing on his face.
He turned his head, looking at the female curled up in his arms, deeply asleep.
She had grown thinner.
Over the past seven days, she had hardly eaten well, lips cracked, dark circles under her eyes speaking of exhaustion. His marks were everywhere on her neck, collarbone, wrists; some fading, some freshly made just last night.
She stayed by him like this, passing through the cycles of awareness and immersion without a word of complaint.
Lu Xiao raised his broad and slender hand, gently touching her cheek.
So tenderly, as if handling a fragile treasure, or afraid of waking from a beautiful dream.
Shen Tang shifted slightly, burrowing deeper into his embrace, muttering something indistinctly.
Lu Xiao didn't catch the words.
