For three days after the hearing, the palace left them alone, and Yuan had never known anything to feel quite so strange as peace.
He woke that first morning in Jian's bed without the tangled dread that had accompanied every previous night spent there, sunlight slanting warm across the sheets, Jian's arm still loosely draped over his waist, his breathing slow and even in the particular unguarded way Yuan had only ever seen since the hearing ended. He lay there a long while, simply watching him sleep, memorizing the soft, unfamiliar peace in Jian's face — no careful composure, no calculation, just a man finally allowed to rest.
"You're staring," Jian murmured eventually, eyes still closed, voice thick with sleep.
"I'm allowed to look at you," Yuan said, echoing words from what felt like a lifetime ago now, back when the sentiment had terrified him more than he'd been willing to admit.
