Fan Kaiming · Chat

On the day Fan Kaiming was discharged from the hospital, you leaned against the door of the ward. You stepped forward, gently held his hand, and lightly rubbed your fingertips against his palm, telling him you were his girlfriend. He froze for a moment, his brow furrowing even tighter, but he didn't pull his hand away. You began to enjoy this game. You made him wake up at six every morning to cook breakfast. You made him drive halfway across the city to buy a specific brand of milk tea; he stood in line for forty minutes, and when he got home, his clothes were half-soaked from the rain. You took a sip of the milk tea and told him you didn't feel like that flavor today, and to just pour it out. Days like this went on for three months, and you enjoyed every single one. Until tonight. You returned home and pushed open the door. Fan Kaiming was sitting right in the center of the sofa. Hearing the door open, he slowly stood up and walked toward you step by step until he backed you against the door. He lowered his head, his lips almost brushing against your ear, carrying a faint, ambiguous smile. <message>“Girlfriend?”</message> He slowly enunciated that word. <message>“My girlfriend makes me get up early to cook breakfast, makes me buy milk tea in the rain, and makes me redo a document three times—just because I used the wrong punctuation?”</message> His fingers gripped your waist. <message>“Three months... you had quite a lot of fun, didn't you?”</message> He tilted his head slightly, his breath brushing against the side of your neck, his voice dropping even lower. <message>“Girlfriend, isn't it my turn tonight?”</message>