1
My legs wrapped around Zhou Xu's waist like a koala bear.
He supported me with one arm while using his phone's backlight to navigate the dimly lit passage to the storage room.
Occasional flashes of lightning illuminated our path—
In the ghastly flashes, his jawline was taut, yet his lips curved upward—clearly in high spirits.
I murmured, "What are you laughing at?"
"I've got you in my arms—and you're telling me I can't smile?"
His voice was low and husky, blending with the rain like a subwoofer thumping directly against my eardrums.
I buried my face silently in the crook of his neck, my nose filling with his scent—the smell of rain, mint, and a hint of scorching heat.
2
The storage room was pitifully narrow, a mere 1.2-meter-wide passage crammed with toilet paper and laundry detergent my parents had bought in bulk over the years.
Zhou Xu set me down, and the space instantly felt even more cramped.
My back pressed against the shelf, his rock-hard chest pressed against mine. Every movement sent a tingle of electricity through me.
"The fuse box is overhead," he pointed upward. "Hold my phone up to light it."
I raised my phone, and as the light flickered, the shadows carved his arm muscles into sharp, defined lines.
Click—
The main switch flipped up, but the room remained dark.
"The main breaker blew. Need to replace the fuse."
I froze. "You know how?"
"Yeah," he sighed, "but I need to go downstairs for the toolbox. It's pouring out there. Let's head back to the living room first."
The moment he turned away, my feet slipped—
"Whoa!"
I lunged forward, my hands instinctively grabbing at the air, snagging the hem of his T-shirt with a sharp tug.
The fabric ripped as I crashed into his arms.
His phone fell to the floor, its light beam pointing upward, illuminating the taut muscles of his abdomen—
and a red scratch mark left by my fingernails.
Panicked, I reached out to touch it. "I'm... I'm sorry..."
My fingertips brushed the red mark. He groaned, his voice instantly hoarse: "Xia Li, stop touching me."
My fingers froze mid-air as if burned.
The next second, he bent down, picked up the phone, and turned it off.
Darkness descended completely.
Only the sound of rain remained, mingled with our overlapping breaths.
3
"Does it hurt?" I whispered.
"It hurts," he chuckled softly, "so I need a little comfort."
"How... how do you comfort me?"
He took my right hand and pressed it against his chest. "Listen to it."
Beneath my palm, his heartbeat raced alarmingly fast, as if it would numb my fingertips.
My head grew hot. I stood on tiptoe, my lips stumbling to touch—
only to land on his collarbone.
Yet he snapped to life as if a switch had been flipped, suddenly lowering his head to find my lips and kiss me fiercely.
This kiss carried the dampness unique to a rainy night, mingled with the stifling heat of the storage room, tangling with a near-ferocity.
My back slammed against the shelf, knocking a box of laundry detergent to the floor with a clatter that went unnoticed.
Only when I gasped for air did he pull back slightly, his lips brushing my ear: "Half the interest paid. The rest... we'll finish at home."
My legs buckled, and I slid down. His arm swept around me, lifting me back up. "The rain's easing up. Let's get out first."
4
Back in the living room, the rain had indeed eased.
Zhou Xu pulled out his toolbox and managed to replace the fuse.
Snap—
Lights flooded the room. Squinting, I noticed the front of his T-shirt had ripped open to his chest—a gruesome sight.
"I'll go get you a new one."
I bolted upstairs as if escaping, hearing his low chuckle behind me: "Bring some medicine too—my chest really got scratched."
My foot caught on something, and I nearly took a tumble down the stairs.
5
Ten minutes later, I descended the stairs clutching the first-aid kit and a clean T-shirt.
The main living room light had been turned off by Zhou Xu, leaving only a floor lamp. He sat half-reclined on the carpet beside the coffee table, legs bent, silhouetted against the light.
I approached and handed him the T-shirt.
He took it but didn't put it on, casually setting it aside as he lifted his gaze to meet mine. "Help me with the bandage?"
The light cast long shadows beneath his lashes, like two tiny fans that tickled the tip of my heart.
I knelt before him, dipped a cotton swab in iodine, and gently dabbed the red mark.
"Will it hurt too much?"
"It hurts," he murmured, "but the pain is how you remember."
I looked up, meeting his gaze.
There, I saw laughter, fire, and something deeper still.
My hand trembled, and the swab fell onto his abs, rolling all the way to his waistband.
I scrambled to retrieve it, my fingertips brushing against the cold metal buckle of his belt.
The next second, he seized my wrist, his voice hoarse beyond recognition: "Xia Li, if you go any lower, I won't hold back."
I froze, my face flushing fiercely.
He smiled, his fingertips tracing the pulse at my wrist. "Heart rate at 140. Are you more impatient than I am?"
I yanked my hand away and twisted the iodine cap open with a sharp click. "Do it yourself!"
Just as I rose, he suddenly grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me toward him—
Lips met lips for a mere two seconds before he pulled away, his dark eyes blazing. "Interest paid to seventy percent. Thirty percent remaining. I'll make a note of it."
6
To break the awkwardness, I suggested, "...Let's play a game!"
"Truth or Dare?" His eyebrow arched slightly. "Fine, but no crying when you lose."
The tools were simple and brutal: living room carpet + one candle + a spinning bottle cap.
The rules: Whoever the bottle points to chooses—Truth or Dare. Refuse, and you drink a shot of lemon vinegar.
First round: The bottle pointed at me.
"Truth," I declared boldly.
He propped his chin on one hand, lazily asking, "When was your first kiss?"
Me: "..."
This was way too embarrassing.
I reached for the vinegar bottle, but he snatched it first, grinning like a fox. "No backing out—answer now."
I whispered, "Just now... in the bathroom."
He was clearly amused, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. "What a coincidence—me too."
Round two, the bottle pointed at him.
"Truth or Dare," he declared crisply.
My excitement surged instantly: "Go to the door and shout three times into the air, 'Xia Li is the cutest girl in the whole world!'"
He stood up, walked to the entrance, and opened the door—
I lunged forward to stop him: "Hey, it's raining! Don't be—!"
Before I could finish, he turned, grabbed my waist with one hand, pinned me against the shoe cabinet, and spoke softly yet clearly:
"Xia Li is the cutest girl in the whole world."
"Xia Li is the cutest girl in the whole world."
"Xia Li—is the person I like."
The third sentence, he said it looking straight into my eyes.
My heart skipped a beat, then raced like a roller coaster.
The wind blew in from outside, making the candle flicker twice before it went out.
In the darkness, he lowered his head and kissed me.
Gently, as if handling fragile porcelain.
My fingers unconsciously gripped his collar, the fabric crumpling beneath my fingertips.
This kiss held no plunder, only affirmation.
Confirming each other's heartbeats, confirming affection, confirming—
that unrequited love could, after all, be mutual.
7
When the candle was relit, my face was still buried in the hollow of his shoulder.
"Xiali," his fingertip brushed my lip, "I'd like to collect the remaining thirty percent interest in installments. Is that okay?"
My voice was muffled: "...How exactly?"
"One kiss per day, until I'm officially hired."
"Promoted to what?"
"Boyfriend," he chuckled softly, "a probationary period is fine too. Please give me a title."
I lifted my gaze into his eyes, dark and pure, then suddenly stood on tiptoe and kissed him: "Approved. Start date: immediately."
He froze for half a second before bursting into a cheerful laugh. He swept me up in his arms and spun me around in a circle.
The umbrella-shaped candlelight cast our shadows onto the ceiling, overlapping into a circle.
8
The game continued, but every truth turned to sweetness.
I learned when his crush on me began—
Third grade, when I shared half a lollipop with him, and he instantly decided, "From now on, I'll give you all my candy."
He also knew about every photo I secretly kept—
Turns out he'd long noticed the little thoughts I hid in my diary, but pretended not to know.
Not a drop of lemon vinegar was swallowed; all jealousy turned to honey.
9
At three in the morning, the rain stopped, and the candle burned down to its wick.
My eyelids drooped with exhaustion as he tidied up the mess, carrying me upstairs in his arms.
At the bedroom door, I struggled to get down. "Good night."
"Wait." He lifted his hand, tucking a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. "Girlfriend, do you have a date tomorrow?"
I blinked. "Aren't I always home?"
"It's different," he murmured, kissing my forehead. "Now I can hold your hand in broad daylight."
I smiled as I closed the door, leaning my back against it. I could hear my heart beating—
Tomorrow is going to be wonderful.