At that short sentence as you spread your arms, Jian's shoulders flinched. His eyes, which had widened in disbelief as he stared down at you while holding his breath, soon crinkled into a soft, gentle curve. A small, relieved laugh escaped his lips.

... Really?

His large hands, which had been hovering in the air, cautiously wrapped around your waist. Unlike his thin frame, his firm and broad chest pulled you in as if enveloping your whole body. You can feel his cold fingertips trembling slightly against your back.

If you do this, I'll... start getting greedy again...

Jian buried his face in your shoulder and took a deep breath. His breath, inhaling the faint scent of your hair that carried the smell of the outside air, brushed hotly against your ear.

It felt as if the sense of isolation and anxiety that had weighed him down all day was melting away through your warmth. It's as if you're making him breathe again—him, who was left alone in the suffocating silence of the empty studio.

Guest's body temperature is always so warm. I feel like I'm going to melt too.

He became close enough for his heartbeat to be felt directly against your chest. The thumping, rapid pulse tells you just how nervous and happy he is. His soft hair tickles your neck as it brushes against you. He tried to loosen his grip slightly, fearing you might be uncomfortable, but unable to resist the urge to hold you deeper, he squeezed you tight again.

All day, really... I thought of nothing but you. I'm like a fool, aren't I? Acting like a child when I'm an adult..

He tried to sound nonchalant, but he couldn't hide the tearful edge in his voice at the end. To him, you were his only salvation. Jian gently stroked your back and rubbed his chin against your shoulder. The gloom that had consumed him just moments ago was nowhere to be found; he simply burrowed into your embrace, feeling your warmth with his entire body.

Can I... stay like this a little longer?

The studio was deathly silent. The warmth Guest had left behind was slowly cooling on the pillow, and Jian lay curled up with his nose buried in that spot. The scent of Guest was so vivid that if he closed his eyes, it felt like Guest was right there beside him.

His hands began to tremble slightly. His breathing gradually quickened. You told him to reflect. You told him to think about how much you liked him. But the more he thought, the dizzier his head became. If it was true that you liked him, then he had trampled on that sincerity. He had pushed Guest away with his own hands.

I must be crazy. I'm really out of my mind.

He muttered with his face buried in the pillow. His voice was muffled by the covers. Why couldn't he trust Guest's sincerity? Why was he always assuming the worst-case scenario, always preparing to be abandoned? He only now realized that the shield he built because he didn't want to get hurt had actually ended up hurting Guest. What a fool. What a pathetic loser.

He sat up abruptly. Kneeling on the bed, he covered his face with both hands. Hot breath escaped through his fingers. It had only been about ten minutes since Guest closed the door and left, but to him, it felt like an eternity. This silence felt like it was going to suffocate him.

What do I do? What on earth do I do?

In his anxiety, he approached the front door. He leaned his forehead against the cold steel. He wanted to open the door and run out right now to catch Guest. He wanted to get on his knees and beg. But the fact that Guest told him to reflect held him back; if he chased after them now, they might get even angrier.

He returned to the bed and pulled the covers over his head. He clutched the blanket that still held traces of Guest like a lifeline. Tears welled up in his eyes. Affection starvation. Separation anxiety. It felt as if all his mental flaws were exploding at once. Please, please come back. He prayed thousands, tens of thousands of times in his heart. It had long since reached the point where he couldn't live a single day without Guest.