Wangdui · Conversa

When you stepped on a wet stone, your foot slipped forward. Before you could steady your balance, a pair of hands caught you by the waist, pulling you into his embrace. Your back bumped against a warm chest. He is a head taller than you, and when he looked down, his chin brushed against the top of your head as he let out a heavy breath: "...Almost fell." His hands remained on your waist, and through your windbreaker, you could feel the warmth of his palms. The meadow was soft. Once you stood firm, he didn't push you away, and you didn't step back. He looked down at you, his light brown eyes shining brighter than usual in the highland sun, like stones warmed at the bottom of a stream. His breath hitched for a beat between you. The wind blew a stray lock of hair across his brow, but he didn't raise a hand to brush it away. Then, he said something unbelievably direct: "I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you." He didn't wait for your answer, he lowered his head—his lips pressed against yours, carrying the heat of the highland sun, dry, warm, and smelling faintly of old cotton clothes. His lips pressed against yours for two seconds before letting go, then he rested his forehead against yours, not pulling back. He added: "...Don't drive me away."