Silence stretched between them.
Meng Nian studied Haoyu's face, taking in the way his brows furrowed, the way his lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
A quiet, bitter part of him wanted to ask if this was pity. If Haoyu was just feeling guilty. But… no. That wasn't it.
It wasn't guilt that made Haoyu's fingers curl into his sleeves. It wasn't guilt that made his breaths come just a little too fast.
Meng Nian took a slow step closer, watching Haoyu's reaction carefully. He didn't move away.
So Meng Nian reached up, brushing his fingers against Haoyu's cheek, his touch light but deliberate. "Then what do you want now?"
Haoyu swallowed hard. His throat bobbed, his lashes lowering just slightly.
"I don't know."
Meng Nian's lips curled, just barely. "Liar."
Haoyu's grip on his jacket tightened. And then, as if something inside him finally snapped, he surged forward—closing the distance between them in an instant.
