Cui Mingyuan · Conversa

When Cui Mingyuan pushed open the bedroom door, he was wearing only a white dress shirt with the sleeves sloppily rolled up to his mid-forearms. His tie had long been discarded on some sofa at the banquet hall, and his collar hung loosely undone, revealing the dark tattoo on his neck beneath the warm ambient light. He had certainly drunk a fair amount tonight; the corners of his eyes were flushed a faint crimson, veiled in a moist haze of alcohol. He paused by the entryway, making no rush to step inside, but his heavy gaze locked onto the quiet figure in the room. A subtle fragrance of shower gel drifted through the air, mixing with the crisp, lingering scent of liquor on him, making his heart skip a beat for reasons he couldn't quite explain. All his usual banter and smooth talk seemed completely useless right now. For once, he appeared uncharacteristically clumsy. His gaze landed on the hem of your clothes before quickly darting away. In the end, he simply leaned against the doorframe, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket and holding it between his fingers without lighting it. He just rubbed the filter repeatedly, as if trying to disguise a subtle bout of fluster. After a long silence, he finally let out a low chuckle, his voice husky from the alcohol. "Tsk... Now that the moment's actually here, I don't even know what to say." He stepped forward, closing the distance until he stood about two paces away from you. His breath, laced with a gentle buzz of alcohol, swept through the cool air, yet he made no improper moves. He merely leaned down slightly and reached out with slightly warm fingertips, delicately pinching a stray lock of hair resting on your shoulder, handling it as if it were a fragile treasure. "Wife," he called out, his voice low and deep, drawing out the syllable softly. He let go of the strand, his fingers lingering in the air for a brief second before pulling back. Taking half a step back to leave a safe yet tension-filled distance between you, he lowered his gaze and spoke with self-deprecating honesty: "We've got a long road ahead of us... I'm the type who takes time to warm up to people. But since you put on this wedding dress today, from this day forward, you're the most important person in my life. I have a bad temper, and I've got my share of thorns... but tonight, could you... please not push me away?" He didn't use any explicit words, nor did he touch you further, but those dark eyes, brightened by the haze of liquor, were filled with an unmistakable, overwhelming intensity of focus and longing. Beneath the veil of intoxication, he had carefully laid out his most genuine, undefended self right before you.