It was rare for Liyun to have the house to herself — rarer still for her to have it with only Xu Mingchen. But somehow, fate had worked in her favor today.
Her parents were visiting relatives out of town, and Yichen had a last-minute project meeting at his university. It left the house unusually quiet, and Liyun fully expected to spend her Saturday curled up in her room with her sketchbook and a playlist of soft, sentimental songs.
Until Mingchen showed up at her front door.
"Yichen's not home," she said, her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the door. Her heart was already racing at the sight of him in his usual black hoodie and washed-out jeans — so effortlessly cool it wasn't fair.
"I know," Mingchen replied with his usual easy smile. "He told me to come get his hard drive."
"Oh." Liyun stepped aside, her pulse hammering in her ears. "Come in."
Mingchen stepped past her, the faint scent of his shampoo trailing after him — mint and something warm, like cedarwood. It was a scent she associated with summer evenings and rooftop laughter, with every quiet moment they'd shared over the years.
He headed straight to Yichen's room, clearly familiar with the route. Liyun stood awkwardly by the living room couch, unsure what to do with herself. Should she offer him tea? Snacks? Should she pretend she had somewhere else to be so she wouldn't hover?
Before she could decide, Mingchen's voice called out. "Where'd he put it?"
"Top shelf, left side!" she called back.
There was a soft thump, followed by a muffled curse. Liyun couldn't help but giggle.
"Need help?" she asked, peeking her head into Yichen's room.
Mingchen was standing on his toes, reaching for the hard drive shoved at the very back of the shelf. Even with his height, it was just out of reach.
"You can laugh after you help me," Mingchen said, his voice light.
Liyun grabbed Yichen's desk chair and slid it beside him. "Here."
He gave her a grateful smile — the kind that made her stomach flip in ways she'd never admit.
She climbed up, balancing carefully as she reached for the elusive hard drive. The chair wobbled slightly, and before she could steady herself, Mingchen's hands shot out, gently holding her waist to keep her from toppling over.
Her whole body went rigid.
It was the first time — the very first time — he'd touched her like that. Casual, protective, but somehow too much and not enough at the same time.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Y-Yeah," she squeaked, grabbing the hard drive and clutching it like a lifeline. "Got it."
She carefully stepped down, and his hands fell away as soon as her feet touched the floor. The absence was almost as jarring as the touch itself.
"Thanks," he said, taking the hard drive from her.
"No problem." Her voice was too high, too forced, but Mingchen didn't seem to notice.
For a moment, they stood there — just the two of them in Yichen's messy room, the silence stretching between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't exactly easy either. There was something different now, something fragile and precious that Liyun was terrified of breaking.
"You busy?" Mingchen asked suddenly.
"What?" Her brain scrambled to catch up.
"I mean, since Yichen's not here." He rubbed the back of his neck, a rare flicker of uncertainty in his expression. "Wanna hang out for a bit?"
Hang out. Just the two of them.
Liyun's brain short-circuited.
"S-Sure!" she blurted, a little too fast. "I mean, if you're not busy."
Mingchen smiled, easy and warm. "I've got time."
---
They ended up in the living room, a bag of potato chips between them and some random variety show playing on the TV. It felt surreal — sitting next to Mingchen with no Yichen acting as a buffer, no loud friends filling the silence. Just the two of them, in the kind of comfortable quiet that felt almost dangerous.
Liyun focused on the screen, but her attention kept drifting to the boy beside her. His arm rested casually on the back of the couch, just inches away from her shoulder. Every time he reached for a chip, his elbow brushed hers, sending sparks through her skin.
It was ridiculous how easily her heart reacted to him.
"Do you still draw all the time?" Mingchen asked, his voice breaking through her thoughts.
Liyun blinked. "Yeah. Mostly in my room."
"Can I see sometime?"
Her heart nearly stopped. "M-My sketchbook?"
"Yeah." His smile was soft. "You've always been good at that."
Her face heated. "I'm not that good…"
"You are." There was no teasing in his tone, just quiet sincerity.
She didn't know how to handle compliments from him — not when they felt so personal. Not when they made her hope for things she had no right to hope for.
"Maybe next time," she said softly.
"Next time," he repeated, and for some reason, it sounded like a promise.
---
They spent the next hour watching TV and snacking, the conversation drifting from school gossip to Yichen's latest ridiculous antics. Mingchen was easy to talk to, even when her heart was thundering in her chest. He didn't treat her like a kid, but he didn't treat her like some awkward girl either. Just Liyun — the girl he'd known forever.
The girl with a crush she was trying so hard to hide.
At one point, the show switched to a romantic scene — a confession under a cherry blossom tree, the boy stammering out his feelings while the girl blushed furiously. It was so cliche, so painfully sweet, and yet Liyun couldn't look away.
"Do you think confessions are really like that?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
Mingchen shrugged. "I guess it depends."
"On what?"
"On the people." His gaze flickered to her, just for a second. "Some people need big moments. Some just… know."
Her throat went dry. "Which one are you?"
He smiled, slow and soft. "I'm not sure yet."
Liyun's heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. But before she could think too hard about what he meant, Mingchen stretched, letting out a soft sigh.
"I should probably go," he said, though he didn't look like he wanted to move.
"Okay." Her voice was too quiet, too reluctant.
He stood, grabbing the hard drive, but paused at the door. "Thanks for keeping me company."
"Anytime," she said, trying to sound casual.
"Next time, I want to see that sketchbook."
The words hung in the air, and before she could respond, Mingchen gave her one last smile — the kind that felt half-sweet, half-something else — and left.
Liyun stood there long after the door closed, her heart full of things she couldn't say, and a little hope she couldn't crush.
(End of chapter)
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— Author of 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡