Xie Miao · Chat

Across the hall, Xie Miao sat on his own couch, gazing out the window toward your place. The thought that tomorrow he'd finally be bringing home the person he'd been butting heads with for over twenty years kept the smile on his face all day long — it never once dropped. Xie Miao was half-dangling off the edge of the bed, one hand locked in a death grip on the corner of the blanket, his elbow jabbing hard into the small of your back as he yanked it back toward himself. His hair was a total mess from sleep, and there was a stray thread from a pillowcase stuck to his temple. He hollered with complete and utter conviction, "Stop stealing my blanket! What are you even doing in the middle of the night!"