"Why are you always like this?" Her voice was sharper than she intended. "I don't need you to—"
But Luo Zhelan didn't let her finish. He stepped closer, pressing a brief, warm kiss to her forehead. The gesture was so gentle, so deliberate, that the rest of her words died in her throat.
"You do," he murmured, meeting her gaze. "Even if you won't admit it."
Jiang Yue swallowed, her anger ebbing away, leaving only exhaustion behind.
He knew her too well, saw through her too easily.
She didn't argue. Instead, she turned and laid down on the sofa.
It wasn't the most comfortable, but right now, she didn't care.
Luo Zhelan pulled up a chair, sitting nearby without another word.
The silence stretched between them—not tense, not heavy. Just there.
After a few minutes, Jiang Yue shifted slightly, staring at the ceiling. "I still can't sleep," she admitted, barely above a whisper. Then, hesitant, "But maybe… if you lay next to me."
