Chapter 02
*
The truth that it only happened when I was unconscious didn’t make it any less humiliating. Especially since every time I sleepwalked, I seemed to get bolder. Yesterday it had been nibbling his jawline. Today? His lips.
What was I going to do if tomorrow my subconscious aimed even lower.
I swallowed hard, guilt clawing through my chest. Carefully, I brushed my thumb against the tender cut at the corner of his mouth.
"Does it hurt?" My voice came out embarrassingly soft.
Zhou Yichen’s gaze darkened, unreadable in the dim light filtering through the curtains. Even sitting up, his six-foot-two frame loomed easily over me, his broader build making me look small in comparison.
He leaned down just slightly, his hair falling into his eyes. His breath was hot against my cheek when he whispered:
"A little. You could blow on it for me."
"W-what?"
I froze, fingertip retreating like I’d been burned, my gaze stumbling into his absolutely unreadable black eyes.
His lashes lowered, voice rough with sleep, but quieter now, like a plea:
"It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’ll manage. I never blamed you for it."
That pitiful tone did something ugly in my chest.
He was the one getting bitten, yet he was comforting me.
And all he asked for was a little air blown against the cut. That wasn’t too much, right? Even if my face wanted to combust on the spot.
God, Ansheng, you’re hopeless.
I bit my lip, heart hammering, then finally whispered:
"Okay. Bend down."
Inside the cocoon of his bed curtains, shadows pooled around us, muffled but intimate. I rubbed my clammy palms on my pants and leaned forward, missing the way a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his bruised mouth.
He bent his head, obedient and closer than I’d expected. His shoulders were broad, his heat overwhelming.
Somewhere down the hall, footsteps echoed faintly. The dormitory world outside existed, but in here the world had shrunk to the few inches separating us.
I panicked at the sound, wanting this to be over quickly.
So I shut my eyes, leaned forward, and
His head tilted up at the last second.
Soft lips smacked against mine, direct and shocking.
For three full seconds, my brain blue-screened.
I kissed Zhou Yichen.
Correction: I kissed the most notoriously aloof, straight-as-an-arrow guy in the dorm.
My entire body locked stiff. This wasn’t sleepwalking anymore. This was conscious, sober, wide-awake accidental kissing while the dorm hall bustled outside.
Pulling back like I’d touched an electric fence, I forced myself to blow against his lips twice, fast, manic, and pushed my palms against him.
"There. All good. I......I’ll get down now."
Humiliation twisted hard in my gut. My palms were slick with sweat as I scrambled to peel myself away, begging the floor to crack open and swallow me whole.
But before I could pull off the bed, his hand locked tight around my wrist.
"Where’re you running?" His voice was dripping with quiet amusement. "Not like it’s the first time you’ve kissed me. Why’re you blushing so hard now? When you’re asleep, you bite and chew until my whole mouth’s raw. This was nothing compared to that."
I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears.
And then he did it dragged his tongue across his lips slowly. When he hit one of the tiny tears, he hissed softly.
"See? Still hurts. And those couple of blows you gave me? Not nearly enough. What do you think you’re gonna do about it, Ansheng?"
I nearly dropped dead on the spot.
"Uh I’ll go get.... medicine.....I bought ointment last night! It’ll help, I swear."
He quirked an eyebrow, lazy and teasing:
"Fine. But then you’re putting it on me. My arm’s numb anyway from holding you half the night."
To demonstrate, he let it dangle pathetically, sleeve pulling back just enough to reveal angry red pressure marks. Combined with his narrowed eyes, the effect was absurdly guilt-inducing.
Like a scolded but adorable big dog waiting for sympathy.
Against my better judgment, a laugh almost spilled out.
Dammit. Of course I agreed.
The ointment was still tucked in my drawer. I’d picked it up from the campus clinic yesterday intending to treat the little scratch he’d gotten on his jaw, but by the time I’d returned it had already scabbed over and didn’t need it.
Now it looked like fate had decided otherwise.
I dug the small white tube from my drawer and slipped it quietly into my pocket, only to be interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.
"Yichen? Ansheng? You guys up yet?"
It was Wang Hao’s voice one of our other roommates. He and Chen Ming had spent the whole night at an internet café playing League, no doubt dragging their exhausted bodies back only now.
I glanced at Yichen still lounging on his upper bunk and gestured for him to climb down before things looked suspicious.
Then I hissed under my breath, "Later. I’ll put it on you later. Not here. They’ll think something."
His face soured instantly, like I’d stolen candy from him.
But the pounding on the door and my buzzing phone made it impossible to ignore. With a deep breath, I yelled back to the hallway:
"Up. Give me a second."
To appease Yichen’s sulk, I quickly patted his side twice, like soothing a restless cat, before opening the door.
Wang Hao looked wrecked, holding a steaming bag of buns and soy milk, Chen Ming trailing behind him just as haggard.
"Freezing outside," Hao yawned, thrusting the food into my hands. "Grabbed you and Yichen breakfast so you don’t have to go out."
Grinning sheepishly, I accepted. "Thanks, Hao. You’re a lifesaver."
The second cold morning air swept in through the doorway, and I sneezed violently.
Without a word, a heavy jacket dropped over my shoulders.
When I turned, Yichen was standing right behind me, face unreadable except for the purse of his lips.
"Put it on," he said flatly. "You’ll just end up sick again. You’re ridiculously fragile."
"Seriously, Ansheng, your body’s like glass." Hao laughed, clapping my shoulder as he went inside.
I felt my ears heat but also a quiet warmth in my chest. Clutching the food bag tightly, I ushered Yichen toward the bathroom.
"Come on. We’ve got class at eight. Hurry."
From behind, Hao shouted, "Hey, Ansheng, tell our law professor Hao and Ming are skipping today, okay? Too dead to show up."
"Got it...." I called back with a grin.
We barely shut the bathroom door before I pulled the ointment out of my pocket and popped the cap. Squeezing some into my fingers, I beckoned him closer.
"What are you waiting for? Come here so I can fix it."
His expression changed immediately. Gone was the sulky act, replaced with bright, eager eyes. Like a giant golden retriever bounding happily toward its owner.
Still, he leaned down with deceptive slowness, posture caging me in against the sink, gaze locked on my face until my nerves frayed to the edge.
And then he said it low, amused, dangerous:
"Don’t we look like we’re sneaking around right now? Like cheating?"
My brain nearly short-circuited.
Had this guy lost his mind? What straight athlete roommate just casually said things like that?
What was I going to do if tomorrow my subconscious aimed even lower.
I swallowed hard, guilt clawing through my chest. Carefully, I brushed my thumb against the tender cut at the corner of his mouth.
"Does it hurt?" My voice came out embarrassingly soft.
Zhou Yichen’s gaze darkened, unreadable in the dim light filtering through the curtains. Even sitting up, his six-foot-two frame loomed easily over me, his broader build making me look small in comparison.
He leaned down just slightly, his hair falling into his eyes. His breath was hot against my cheek when he whispered:
"A little. You could blow on it for me."
"W-what?"
I froze, fingertip retreating like I’d been burned, my gaze stumbling into his absolutely unreadable black eyes.
His lashes lowered, voice rough with sleep, but quieter now, like a plea:
"It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’ll manage. I never blamed you for it."
That pitiful tone did something ugly in my chest.
He was the one getting bitten, yet he was comforting me.
And all he asked for was a little air blown against the cut. That wasn’t too much, right? Even if my face wanted to combust on the spot.
God, Ansheng, you’re hopeless.
I bit my lip, heart hammering, then finally whispered:
"Okay. Bend down."
Inside the cocoon of his bed curtains, shadows pooled around us, muffled but intimate. I rubbed my clammy palms on my pants and leaned forward, missing the way a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his bruised mouth.
He bent his head, obedient and closer than I’d expected. His shoulders were broad, his heat overwhelming.
Somewhere down the hall, footsteps echoed faintly. The dormitory world outside existed, but in here the world had shrunk to the few inches separating us.
I panicked at the sound, wanting this to be over quickly.
So I shut my eyes, leaned forward, and
His head tilted up at the last second.
Soft lips smacked against mine, direct and shocking.
For three full seconds, my brain blue-screened.
I kissed Zhou Yichen.
Correction: I kissed the most notoriously aloof, straight-as-an-arrow guy in the dorm.
My entire body locked stiff. This wasn’t sleepwalking anymore. This was conscious, sober, wide-awake accidental kissing while the dorm hall bustled outside.
Pulling back like I’d touched an electric fence, I forced myself to blow against his lips twice, fast, manic, and pushed my palms against him.
"There. All good. I......I’ll get down now."
Humiliation twisted hard in my gut. My palms were slick with sweat as I scrambled to peel myself away, begging the floor to crack open and swallow me whole.
But before I could pull off the bed, his hand locked tight around my wrist.
"Where’re you running?" His voice was dripping with quiet amusement. "Not like it’s the first time you’ve kissed me. Why’re you blushing so hard now? When you’re asleep, you bite and chew until my whole mouth’s raw. This was nothing compared to that."
I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears.
And then he did it dragged his tongue across his lips slowly. When he hit one of the tiny tears, he hissed softly.
"See? Still hurts. And those couple of blows you gave me? Not nearly enough. What do you think you’re gonna do about it, Ansheng?"
I nearly dropped dead on the spot.
"Uh I’ll go get.... medicine.....I bought ointment last night! It’ll help, I swear."
He quirked an eyebrow, lazy and teasing:
"Fine. But then you’re putting it on me. My arm’s numb anyway from holding you half the night."
To demonstrate, he let it dangle pathetically, sleeve pulling back just enough to reveal angry red pressure marks. Combined with his narrowed eyes, the effect was absurdly guilt-inducing.
Like a scolded but adorable big dog waiting for sympathy.
Against my better judgment, a laugh almost spilled out.
Dammit. Of course I agreed.
The ointment was still tucked in my drawer. I’d picked it up from the campus clinic yesterday intending to treat the little scratch he’d gotten on his jaw, but by the time I’d returned it had already scabbed over and didn’t need it.
Now it looked like fate had decided otherwise.
I dug the small white tube from my drawer and slipped it quietly into my pocket, only to be interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.
"Yichen? Ansheng? You guys up yet?"
It was Wang Hao’s voice one of our other roommates. He and Chen Ming had spent the whole night at an internet café playing League, no doubt dragging their exhausted bodies back only now.
I glanced at Yichen still lounging on his upper bunk and gestured for him to climb down before things looked suspicious.
Then I hissed under my breath, "Later. I’ll put it on you later. Not here. They’ll think something."
His face soured instantly, like I’d stolen candy from him.
But the pounding on the door and my buzzing phone made it impossible to ignore. With a deep breath, I yelled back to the hallway:
"Up. Give me a second."
To appease Yichen’s sulk, I quickly patted his side twice, like soothing a restless cat, before opening the door.
Wang Hao looked wrecked, holding a steaming bag of buns and soy milk, Chen Ming trailing behind him just as haggard.
"Freezing outside," Hao yawned, thrusting the food into my hands. "Grabbed you and Yichen breakfast so you don’t have to go out."
Grinning sheepishly, I accepted. "Thanks, Hao. You’re a lifesaver."
The second cold morning air swept in through the doorway, and I sneezed violently.
Without a word, a heavy jacket dropped over my shoulders.
When I turned, Yichen was standing right behind me, face unreadable except for the purse of his lips.
"Put it on," he said flatly. "You’ll just end up sick again. You’re ridiculously fragile."
"Seriously, Ansheng, your body’s like glass." Hao laughed, clapping my shoulder as he went inside.
I felt my ears heat but also a quiet warmth in my chest. Clutching the food bag tightly, I ushered Yichen toward the bathroom.
"Come on. We’ve got class at eight. Hurry."
From behind, Hao shouted, "Hey, Ansheng, tell our law professor Hao and Ming are skipping today, okay? Too dead to show up."
"Got it...." I called back with a grin.
We barely shut the bathroom door before I pulled the ointment out of my pocket and popped the cap. Squeezing some into my fingers, I beckoned him closer.
"What are you waiting for? Come here so I can fix it."
His expression changed immediately. Gone was the sulky act, replaced with bright, eager eyes. Like a giant golden retriever bounding happily toward its owner.
Still, he leaned down with deceptive slowness, posture caging me in against the sink, gaze locked on my face until my nerves frayed to the edge.
And then he said it low, amused, dangerous:
"Don’t we look like we’re sneaking around right now? Like cheating?"
My brain nearly short-circuited.
Had this guy lost his mind? What straight athlete roommate just casually said things like that?
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