so tell me you love me (only for tonight).

Ningning spent a lot of time imagining their reunion. It had been so long since she last saw him — long enough that memories had begun to blur around the edges. That she knew as much.

What she could never have imagined was this.

There he was, standing in the middle of her apartment as though he belonged there, waiting for her to come home from the office.

For a moment, all she could do was stare. Wonder if all of this was a figment of her imagination.

But there he stood, in the middle of her apartment. A black fitted suit hugging his frame perfectly, tie hanging loosely, top button of his shirt undone. His hair — usually slicked neatly back, not a strand out of place — had fallen messy across his forehead, framing his face in a way that made him look even more devastatingly gorgeous.

Caught up in her feelings, Ningning almost forgot that he’d essentially broken into her home.

“Are you going to keep staring,” he drawled in the familiar deep voice, “or are you going to say something?”

God.

She had missed his voice.

“Well, this is certainly an odd way of trying to get my attention,” she said by way of greeting, letting the door close behind her.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward as he slowly looked her over, dark eyes drinking her in with an intensity that made heat creep up her spine.

“Well, I tried calling,” he said, raising an eyebrow slightly. “You ignored me.”

Ningning scoffed softly, setting her keys down by the door. “Most people take that as a hint.”

“You and I both know perfectly well that I’m not ‘most people,’” he said.

There it was.

That same unbearable cockiness, the kind she used to find so sexy. But now? The only emotion she could feel was anger. She was furious at him.

She crossed her arms in an attempt to steady herself more than anything else. “You still haven’t explained why you’re in my apartment.”

His expression didn’t falter. If anything, her anger only seemed to amuse him.

He took a slow step forward, polished shoes quiet against the hardwood floor. “I wanted to see you.”

“That’s not an actual explanation.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the truth.”

Ningning let out a deep sigh, shaking her head as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her heels. “So what, you think you can disappear for months, ignore every message I sent, every call, and then suddenly decide to break into my apartment because you decided you ‘wanted to see me’?”

For the first time since she stepped through the door, something in his expression shifted.

Subtle, but there.

The amusement twinkling in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by something duller. He exhaled through his nose, gaze dropping briefly to the floor before returning to her face.

“It isn’t what you think.”

Ningning laughed once — sharp and humourless. “Is that right?”

His jaw tightened.

The silence stretched between them, thick and tense, broken only by the distant sound of rain hammering against the windows.

“You’re bold, breaking in here, telling me you want to see me. I should call the cops.”

He tilted his head slightly at that, eyes darkening with something almost dangerous.

“But you won’t.”

“Hm,” she hummed dryly, walking past him toward the kitchen. “You seem awfully confident for someone trespassing.”

She didn’t need to look to know he was following behind her. His presence had always been like that — heavy, consuming, impossible to ignore.

She busied herself with pointless movements, setting her bag down on the counter, rummaging inside even though she didn’t really need anything from it. Anything to avoid looking at him.

Looking at him was too dangerous.

Looking at him made it far too easy to remember things she had spent months trying desperately to forget.

The way his hands felt on her waist.

The sound of his laugh late at night, reserved only for her.

The way he used to look at her and truly understand her, like no one else could.

“You’re angry,” he observed quietly.

She let out a short laugh, turning around to face him, bodies inches apart. “Gee, what gave it away?”

“Yizh—”

“No.” She slapped him hard across the face. “You do not get to call me that after disappearing.”

For a second, neither of them moved.

The sting of her palm lingered against his skin, sharp enough that she could feel it throbbing in her own hand. His head had turned slightly with the force of it, dark hair falling further across his forehead.

And that’s when she saw it, the change in his eyes. The darkness she knew had always been there.

His hand came up slowly, thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth where she’d hit him. Not shocked.

Just watching her, eyes unblinking.

Ningning hated that even now, standing this close to him, all she could think about was how good he felt inside her. How his kisses made her weak in the knees. How his presence filled a room — suffocating, yet all she wanted to do was drown in him.