turns out you can overthink your way back into your ex's bed.
Okay, so maybe after going on this many dates Yizhuo should be better at knowing how to leave when it clearly wasn’t working. Maybe she should've developed some sort of internal warning system by now, some type of survival instinct. The ability to recognise a lost cause and cut her losses before wasting an entire evening.
Yet here she was, twenty minutes into a date she’d known was doomed as soon as he opened his mouth.
Five minutes. That’s how long it’d taken for her to find him so incredibly annoying. Five minutes for him to transform from a handsome stranger into someone she definitely wouldn’t be seeing again.
Sure, he was handsome. Objectively handsome, anyway, with his perfect teeth and perfect hair. The sort of face that probably did very well on dating apps.
But by fucking God, was he boring.
Catastrophically so.
Yizhuo was pretty sure he was still talking. He hadn’t really stopped since they sat down. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to listen to whatever he seemed to be droning on about now, opting instead to nod every couple of minutes.
She can’t help but think about how much of a waste tonight was.
She definitely wouldn't be having sex tonight. Not that she'd wanted to, per se, but still. The option would've been nice.
This guy radiated ‘did you come?’ energy, and she totally wasn’t wasting her time with that.
The thought should've ended there, but instead, it triggered a far more dangerous one.
Her ex.
Immediately, Yizhuo groaned internally. Absolutely not. Not him, anyone but him, please. Because once he entered her thoughts, he never arrived alone. He brought memories, a very specific type of memories.
The kind that had absolutely nothing to do with his personality and everything to do with why she'd spent the last six months being disappointed by other men.
Their relationship had been a disaster, an actual train wreck, and objectively, their break-up was the healthiest thing Yizhuo had done in a long, long time.
Yet the thoughts lingered.
What if I already had the best sex of my life and threw it away because he was emotionally unavailable?
God.
What if she'd accidentally broken up with a generational talent?
No.
No, no, no.
That’s a ridiculous thought. There’s billions of men on this planet. Surely she can find one that can be emotionally available and sexually competent.
Probably.
Well, hopefully.
Right?
A horrifying possibility occurred to her.
What if her ex was currently somewhere else making another woman question her standards forever?
"Yizhuo?"
She blinked as the man across from her was looking at her expectantly. Apparently he'd asked a question. Oops.
She smiled. "Sorry. I got distracted."
"What were you thinking about?"
Unfortunately, the answer was absolutely not something she could say out loud.
"Work."
A big fat lie. Maybe the biggest lie she’d told all year. But hey, what was she supposed to say?
"Yeah, sorry, I was busy thinking about how deeply unfair it was that the worst boyfriend I’ve ever had might also have been the best sex of my life."
The date ended twenty-three minutes later, with no dramatics involved. Yizhuo had simply reached her breaking point. Growth, you could say. She’d only wasted forty-three minutes of her life instead of the whole evening. Past Yizhuo would’ve sat through another drink, probably dinner. Maybe even dessert.
Present Yizhuo valued her time. And her sanity. Somewhat, anyway.
The taxi ride home should have been peaceful. She’d escaped a bad date relatively unscathed.
But no.
Instead, Yizhuo found herself staring at her phone. Specifically, at one particular contact.
Good God no. Absolutely not, that is a terrible idea. The sort of idea people regretted immediately.
Her thumb hovered over his name before it drifted away again.
Ugh, this was an unbelievably terrible idea.
The sort of idea that eventually got shared with friends years later.
Remember when I texted my ex because I was worried nobody else would ever make me orgasm properly again?
She locked her phone and unlocked it again thirty seconds later. Honestly, what exactly was the plan here? Ugh.
There was a reason they hadn’t spoken in months, a reason their relationship had ended. Yet sat in the backseat of a taxi she couldn’t help but feel like maybe texting him wasn’t the worst idea ever.
Yizhuo sighed. No, she most definitely wasn't doing this. She was a grown and intelligent woman. One that made sensible decisions. Like not texting her ex because he was great in bed.
She placed her phone face down on her lap, and three seconds passed before she picked it back up. Before she could think too hard about it, she opened their old chat and stared at the empty message box.
Slowly she typed out a variety of different messages, before deleting them all. She finally settled for simplicity.
hey
"Oh my God."
Immediately, every ounce of confidence vanished. Why the fuck had she done that?
The message sent, there was no taking it back now. Yizhuo stared at her screen before immediately locking her phone.
Good.
Excellent.
Problem solved.
If she couldn't see it, then it technically wasn't happening.
Three seconds later she unlocked it again. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. Why would there be anything? The man barely texted back when they were dating, let alone to a random ‘‘hey’’ at 8PM on a Thursday evening.
A fresh wave of horror washed over her.
"Oh my God, this is so humiliating."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Silence.
Then, from the driver's seat:
"...You alright back there, miss?"
"No."
The driver glanced at her briefly through the rear-view mirror. "Bad day?"
"No," she paused before speaking again. "Yep."
The driver nodded, like all of this made perfect sense. "Breakup?"
Yizhuo stared. "How did you know?"
The man laughed. "Been driving taxis for a long time, love. You see everything."
Her phone vibrated, making her freeze. Whatever reply she was about to give to the driver long gone.
Yizhuo peered down at the screen, one eye closed as if that might soften the blow.
u alive?
For one terrible second, relief flooded through her. Relief at the absolute audacity of this man. Six months without speaking and somehow he'd still managed to respond in the most infuriatingly familiar way possible.
Yizhuo stared down at her phone and scoffed. As if that was actually his response…
"Oh, fuck you," she muttered.
Six months. Six entire months, and somehow he'd managed to annoy her within four words.
Three dots appeared then disappeared before appearing again.
"What the fuck is he doing?" she muttered.
Finally, a second message arrived.
thought u were dead
Yizhuo stared at the messages for what felt like forever. This man. This fucking man. It’d been six months and that’s all he had to say? No ‘I’m sorry I was an ass for our entire relationship’. Just complete and utter nonsense.
What was she even supposed to reply to that? She thought to herself as her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
so?
u good?
yeah
good
Yizhuo found herself staring at his reply. Was that all he had to say after six months? Wow. Six months of silence and his reply was basically a thumbs up. Huh.
so, whats wrong
u only ever message if ur horny
or..
actually i cant think of another reason
Yizhuo stared at the message. Then she stared some more. Then she considered throwing her phone through the taxi window. Because somehow, impossibly, he'd managed to remind her exactly why they'd broken up.
Not because he'd done anything terrible, just because he was irritating, profoundly so.
The four little messages sat there on her screen.
fuck off.
missed u too
so, how bad was the date?
who said anything about a date?
it’s thursday
u told me u always save first dates for thursdays
what
u told me like 20 times
weekdays are less commitment
Yizhuo stared out the window of the taxi, unable to come up with a reply. Because the worst part wasn't that he remembered, no. The worst part was that he was right, they’d had that exact conversation.
When she finally looked down at her phone again, she realised he’d made the whole thing even worse.
so
u horny or starting a fight
Yizhuo stared at the message and debated blocking him. The worst part wasn't that he'd accused her of being horny, it was that he was right and he knew it.
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
i suppose that depends
on?
whether i’m horny or starting a fight
oh
oh thats bad
bad for who?
me
why?
because i enjoy both
Yizhuo immediately regretted starting this conversation. Not because he was being inappropriate or creepy. Because he was flirting. Effortlessly. Like six months hadn't happened, like they hadn't broken up. Like she'd spoken to him yesterday.
The worst part? She was actually enjoying it.
Her friends were so going to kill her.
disappearing for 6 months and opening with hey is crazy btw
i was testing the waters
with hey?
it got a response didn’t it?
true true
so how bad was the date?
how do you know it was bad?
u texted me
I hate that you’re right
i know
so, was he handsome?
sure
boring?
painfully
aha
aha what?
so that’s the reason u texted me
you’re unbelievable
thanks
that wasn’t a compliment
sure it was
surely your ego isn't big enough to think i texted you because of that
it absolutely is
Yizhuo rolled her eyes. Why had she ever thought it was a good idea to text him?
so
u coming over or?
absolutely not
damn
did you think I was actually going to say yes?
babe
u texted your ex at 8pm after a failed date
be serious
you’re so full of yourself
u could be too if u wanted
Yizhuo stared at the screen. Then at the ceiling. Then back at the screen.
This was a mistake.
A terrible, terrible mistake.
The kind of mistake that eventually ended with crying in a bathroom and all her friends saying, "What did you expect?"
Unfortunately, Yizhuo had never been particularly gifted at learning from her mistakes, especially not the kind that texted back.
Twenty minutes later, she found herself standing outside his apartment building.
Why the fuck did had she thought that this was a good idea?
The answer, unfortunately, was because she'd spent twenty minutes in a taxi trying to talk herself out of it and somehow ended up here anyway.
Yizhuo had never really prided herself on making good choices when it came to relationships, but what she did know is that she'd been smiling at her phone more during the last forty minutes than she had during the previous six months of dating.
She stared up at the building. Maybe she was actually going insane. Maybe that was the explanation behind this madness. Her phone vibrated, breaking her away from her spiral.
so u coming up or are u gonna just keep standing outside?
how do you know that i’m outside
because i’ve been watching u stand there for the past 5 mins
Slowly, Yizhuo looked up and there he was, leaning out of the third-floor window looking entirely too pleased with himself. For a moment neither of them moved, then he lifted his hand and waved.
The fucker actually waved.
Yizhuo felt a laugh escape before she could stop it, and that was the moment she realised she was probably fucked up in more ways that one. The fact that he could still make her laugh should’ve been infuriating. Instead it was something much worse.
She should leave, try to spare some of her remaining dignity. Instead she found herself walking into the apartment building, riding in the elevator to his floor.
The apartment door opened before she'd even had a chance to knock.
Of course it did.
He was already standing there. Shirtless.
"Hey."
Yizhuo looked at him, eyes trailing down his body. She regretted it immediately. Six months was apparently not enough time for him to become less attractive.
"Why are you shirtless?"
"Don’t you think it’s kinda rude to turn up to someone's place and immediately interrogate them?"
"Why are you shirtless?" She repeated, trying very hard to maintain eye contact with him.
He glanced down at himself, then back at her. "You know, most people start with 'hello.'"
Yizhuo brushed past him before he could continue the conversation.
The apartment looked exactly the same as the last time she’d been here. Same ugly couch, same ugly rug that clashed with the rest of the room, and the same stupid plant she’d bought for him sat in the corner of the room.
"I’m surprised you managed to keep it alive after all this time."
He glanced towards the plant. "Dave?"
"You named it?"
"Shh, don’t call Dave an ‘it’. He has feelings too, you know?"
Yizhuo felt herself smiling, which she couldn’t help being irritated at. Why did everything have to be so effortless?
"You're smiling."
Her smile vanished instantly. "No I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm literally not."
"You walked in here looking like you were attending a funeral."
"Maybe I was."
"And now you're smiling."
There it was again. That effortless ability to make her laugh. The way every conversation somehow became ridiculous within thirty seconds. Why was she doing this to herself?
He stepped further into the apartment and stretched both arms over his head.
Yizhuo immediately regretted looking.
The movement pulled at the muscles across his stomach and chest. His pyjama pants dipped lower on his hips for a brief second before settling again.
Yizhuo immediately looked away.
Unfortunately, looking away only meant she became aware of him looking at her and smiling.
The bastard.
"You're staring, babe."
"Don’t babe me."
Her attitude only seemed to make him smile more, which only infuriated her further.
"You know," he said, wandering toward the kitchen, "most people would've at least pretended they came here for a normal reason."
Yizhuo folded her arms. "Maybe I did."
He looked over his shoulder from the kitchen. "You texted me after six months because you had a bad date."
"Allegedly."
He laughed. "Then you got into a taxi and came to my apartment."
"You're making me sound unstable."
"Babe."
"There it is again."
"What?"
"The babe thing."
"What about it?"
He sounded genuinely confused, like he had absolutely no idea why the word bothered her.
Yizhuo opened her mouth, ready to continue the argument, then immediately lost her train of thought. Because he'd stopped moving, a teasing smile still present on his face. But his eyes? His eyes were looking at her properly for the first time since she’d arrived. Really looking at her.
He leaned against the kitchen counter. "You look really good, Yizhuo."
"What?"
"You look really, really good."
Heat immediately crawled up her neck. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"You can't just say things like that."
He pushed away from the counter. One step, then another. Yizhuo immediately became aware of the distance disappearing between them. By the time he stopped they were standing close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact.
Yizhuo swallowed hard as he leaned forward slightly, just enough that the space between them felt almost non-existent, lips almost touching.
"Why are you here, Yizhuo?"
The question should've been easy, after all, she'd spent the entire taxi ride thinking about it. It’d be easy to say it was a whim, easy to blame it on the bad date, loneliness. But the truth is she wasn’t exactly sure that was the reason.
Yizhuo opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. And somehow that made everything worse.
His eyes softened immediately, enough for her to notice. Enough for her to get that familiar pang in her chest. When he finally spoke again, she never could’ve expected the words that left his lips.
"I missed you, you know?"
The words felt heavier than they should’ve. She’d come here prepared for him to be his usually irritatingly flirty self, ready to be annoyed more than anything else. Instead, she didn’t know how to feel. What she was supposed to say to that. The sincerity in his voice felt too real.
Yizhuo looked at him, really looked at him. The same faint stubble lining his jaw, the same slightly crooked nose from when he broke it as a teenager, the same little dimple in his left cheek. The same man she’d spent three years of her life loving.
She came here convinced she was risking her dignity for good sex. But now? Now she wasn’t sure what any of this meant anymore.
Before she overwhelmed herself thinking about the strange feeling in her chest, she grabbed the front of his waistband and pulled him into a kiss.
For a second he seemed almost surprised by it, caught off guard by the suddenness of her grabbing him and pulling him down. Then his hands slid down the curve of her spine, momentarily stopping at her waist before dropping lower. His fingers dug into her hip and then slipped down, firmly squeezing her ass to pull her hips flush against his.
For a moment, neither of them seemed capable of remembering why breaking up had ever felt like a sensible decision.
His hand squeezed her ass firmly as she tilted her head, frustration and relief tangling together until she could no longer tell the difference between them. Six months of silence, of convincing herself she'd moved on. Six months of terrible dates and even worse advice from friends all gone after one evening.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing frantically.
"This was a bad idea," Yizhuo informed him.
His hands settled at her waist again, warm and familiar enough to make something uncomfortable tighten in her chest. "You still do that thing," he murmured.
"What thing?"
"The thing where you announce you're making a bad decision while actively making it."
Yizhuo rolled her eyes, sarcastic reply armed and ready. Instead, her words were cut off as he leaned forward and kissed her again.
Her fingers found the front of his waistband again, holding on without really thinking about it. His hand slid under her thighs, lifting her with practiced ease, like he’d done it hundreds of times before.
And he had, and maybe that was the problem.
"After all this time, I still don't think you understand what you do to me," he whispered against her lips, breath breaking.
Yizhuo’s breath hitched, the sarcasm dying on her tongue. Instead, her legs wrapped around his waist tighter as he carried them through the apartment to the bedroom.
He lowered her down, but he didn’t follow immediately, hovering over her, caging her in with his arms braced on either side of her head. In the dim light of the bedroom, all he could see was those big beautiful eyes. Soft like they always had been in moments like this.
"Say something," he murmured, face close enough she could feel his breath mixing with hers. "You're always thinking so loud I can practically hear it. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours, babe?"
Yizhuo stared up at him and for once, nothing clever arrived. No insult, no sarcastic comment. No perfectly timed dismissal she could use to shove the moment back into safer territory.
Just him.
His face above hers, too familiar and too close, his voice still soft in a way that made her chest ache.
“I’m thinking,” she said slowly, “that you know exactly why I came here, so you should do something about it.”
"Demanding," he whispered, lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. "I missed that about you too."
"Oh, shut the fuck up."
His grin widened. "See, that's exactly wha-"
Yizhuo grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him back down into another kiss.
His hands were already moving, sliding her dress up her thighs before his fingers slipped beneath the lace of her underwear. Yizhuo let out a sharp, ragged moan against his mouth.
"Still just as impatient, hm?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to look down at her, his eyes dark.
"Just shut the fuck up and touch me," Yizhuo breathed, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper as she arched into his touch.
He didn't argue, his teasing arrogant grin disappearing as his mouth kissed trails up her stomach, hands slowly sliding up to bring her dress over her head. The dress pooled somewhere on the floor, forgotten, leaving her exposed to the cool air of the room as his mouth captured a sensitive nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sinking his teeth in just enough to tease, not to hurt.
As his mouth worked her breasts, his hands made their way back down her body, fingers sliding past damp lace, ghosting over the area she needed him most. Yizhuo could feel how much he wanted her too, his erection pressing against the confines of his pyjama pants serving as a stark reminder.
He groaned against her breasts, his teeth releasing her nipple as he kissed his way down to her navel. His hands slid under the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down slowly, teasingly. As she laid before him, bare and exposed, she couldn’t help but feel like something had changed this time. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, chest moving up and down heavily.
Slowly, almost teasingly, his fingers slid between her legs again, finding her completely slick and ready for him.
Yizhuo gasped, hips instinctively arching upward to meet his touch. He let out a low, rough sound of approval against her skin, his thumb instantly finding her clit while two fingers slid deep inside her.
"Look at you," he mumbled against her skin as his fingers began a slow, deliberate rhythm that knew exactly how to break her down. "Still my girl. No one gets you like I do."
Yizhuo couldn't even find the breath to argue. She threw her head back against the pillow, her fingers tangling in his hair as the friction built rapidly, dragging her over the edge before she could even try to find her footing.
Without warning, as she was still reeling from her first orgasm, he dipped his head, tongue flicking over her clit. Her hips bucked, a surprised moan escaping.
His tongue lapped at her clit, mouth latching around it and sucking hard. Yizhuo could barely catch her breath, thighs squeezing his head tighter and tighter and he pulled her closer and closer to the edge again. He knew every spot to press, every place to nip with his teeth to make her squirm. The sensation was almost too much.
Almost.
The tight squeeze of her thighs on his head only seemed to encourage him further, his tongue working even harder, leaving her gasping for breath until he pushed her over the edge with a practiced flick of the tongue. Yizhuo’s voice broke in a sharp, ragged cry, her fingers tightening desperately in his hair.
Her body spasmed, a violent, rolling orgasm crashing through, making her back arch completely off the mattress. He didn't pull away, tongue lapping slowly against her as she rode out her high.
She collapsed back into the pillows, panting heavily, her chest heaving as the room slowly stopped spinning. As she stared up at the ceiling she couldn’t help how her mind wandered. God. Maybe the problem wasn't just that he knew exactly how to touch her, it wasn't just that he remembered every reaction, every sound, every little thing that made her come apart. Maybe the problem was that he still knew her. Really knew her.
He climbed back over her, pulling her from her thoughts. His erection felt heavy against her thigh as he leaned down to kiss her. He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his breathing heavy as their eyes locked. The sight of her completely unravelled beneath him was one he’d never get sick of.
Moving with practiced ease, his hands slid to her hips, his grip firm as he guided her to turn over. Yizhuo didn't protest, instead she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, the cool air of the bedroom hitting her bare skin for only a fraction of a second before he crowded the space behind her.
Yizhuo shivered as his lips pressed into the sensitive skin at the base of her neck. He began a slow, agonisingly deliberate trail of kisses straight down her spine. Each press of his mouth was warm and heavy, his stubble scraping lightly against her bare skin, making her shoulders twitch.
She braced her forearms against the mattress, burying her face in the pillows to muffle the sound that escaped her when his hands settled heavily on her hips.
This felt like the point of no return.
Every logical instinct she possessed was screaming at her from the back of her mind, a distant, frantic chorus reminding her of the six months of peace she’d fought so hard for. But here, in the quiet dimness of his bedroom, his warmth was the only thing that felt real.
Was she insane?
Maybe.
Probably.
"Stop overthinking," he murmured against her ear, his voice rough. "And tell me what you want."
Yizhuo bit her lower lip, the cool fabric of the pillowcase pressing against her cheek as she wrestled with the last remaining shred of her pride.
He knew exactly what she wanted, he’d always known. But he wanted to hear her say it, because he was an arrogant bastard who thrived on complete submission.
"You," she breathed out, voice muffled by the pillow. She shifted slightly, her hips tilting back instinctively against him, a silent plea that spoke much louder than her words. "Please..."
He didn't make her beg any further. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed inside. The sensation felt overwhelming for them both. Months of built up tension all dissolving in one agonisingly slow second.
"Still fits perfectly," he whispered against her ear.
He didn’t wait for her to process the words before he began to move with a steady, relentless rhythm. The room filled with the rhythmic slap of skin meeting skin, punctuated by Yizhuo’s muffled moans and the ragged breaths they both struggled to tame.
"Look at me," he grunted softly, voice still full of its usual playful arrogance.
Yizhuo swallowed hard, turning her head on the pillow to look back at him over her shoulder. That same smirk on his lips, dark eyes fixed entirely on her as he slowly pulled back before driving in again, deeper this time.
His grip on her hips only seemed to get tighter as his pace picked up, driving into her with a relentless force. Yizhuo’s breath was completely knocked out of her, her fingers clawing at the sheets in an attempt to ground herself.
He leaned down, pressing his entire weight against her back, hand around her waist to keep her upright as he trapped her beneath him, pace turning merciless. His mouth was right against her ear, his breath ragged and hot against her damp skin.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he grunted, hitting the exact spot that made her toes curl. "God, I missed this so much."
She couldn’t think, couldn't breathe, couldn't find any of the walls she’d spent six months building. She couldn’t decide what was more overwhelming, his words or his actions. This fucking man.
"You missed me too, right?" he murmured, free hand slapping across her ass hard. "I know you did, babe."
"I hate you," she breathed out, her voice cracking with a mix of desperate pleasure and genuine frustration. "I hate you so fucking much."
He let out a low, breathless laugh against her skin, utterly unoffended. If anything, her frustration only seemed to delight him.
“Is that so?” He asked, winding his fingers into her hair and pulling it as he thrusted deeper and deeper, hitting that same agonisingly perfect angle over and over . "Say it then, look me in the eye and tell me you hate me."
Yizhuo forced her head around, her neck straining against the tight, grounding pull of his fingers in her hair. He was looking down at her with a raw intensity that completely stripped away the lazy, casual arrogance he usually wore. She used to love the contrast, but right now all she wanted to do was slap the look off his face. God, he was so fucking smug.
She opened her mouth to spit the words back into his face, to find some shred of her dignity, but she couldn’t, because he was right, she couldn’t.
"I-"
The words died in her throat as he thrust into her deep and uncompromising. Brutal and deliberate to shatter whatever words she had left. Her back arched violently, a high, broken moan tearing from her lips as her eyes squeezed shut. The sheer fullness of him, the absolute familiarity of the fit, made her chest ache just as much as her body, completely consumed by the one thing he had always been able to give her perfectly.
His thumb reached down to find her clit, and the sudden, dual friction of his hand and his body made her mind and body completely melt.
Yizhuo’s entire body went rigid. A loud scream caught in the back of her throat as her third orgasm of the night completely destroyed her, her vision going blurry around the edges as she clamped down on him. The tight, desperate clenching of her body broke him completely as he spilled deep inside her.
"Fuck, babe," he murmured softly, his full weight collapsing on top of her.
For several long moments, Yizhuo simply lay there breathing hard, unable to feel her legs properly. His full weight remained sprawled across her back, arm still loosely wrapped around her waist as she attempted to gather her thoughts.
Slowly, painfully, thought returned.
Three, her brain supplied helpfully. That was three. He’d done it again. The undefeated champion of ruining her life had just defended his title.
Yizhuo closed her eyes.
God.
This was exactly the problem. Not the sex, but the consistency. Anybody could get lucky once. Twice, even. But every single time?
It was frankly becoming irritating.
Somewhere behind her, he let out a sleepy hum. "You overthinking?"
"No."
"You’re a terrible liar."
Yizhuo sighed into the pillow as he rolled off her, arm still draped around her.
"Wanna know what I think?" he asked.
"Nope."
"I think this is why you texted me."
Yizhuo immediately pushed herself upright. "Ugh, you have the perfect talent of knowing when to say something unbearably annoying to remind me why we broke up."
A laugh rumbled from somewhere beneath the blankets. "You're not leaving."
"Watch me."
Yizhuo swung her legs over the side of the bed, well, she attempted to. Before her feet even touched the floor, an arm wrapped around her waist, and with very little effort, dragged her backwards.
Yizhuo let out an undignified yelp as she landed flat on her back beside him. "You're actually unbelievable."
"Stay."
"No."
"Yizhuo."
"What?"
"I'll make you breakfast."
"You can't keep me here with breakfast," she grumbled, folding her arms across her chest. "What kind of breakfast?"
His grin immediately widened. "I'll make the eggs you like."
Yizhuo looked at his messy hair, and at the stupid smile he only ever wore when he knew he'd won before letting out a long, defeated sigh.
Her friends were absolutely going to kill her.
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