𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖊//𝖂𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖍𝖚𝖎

Chap. 9

The moon is missed on a night such as this. You only have the lights from the front doors as a source of navigation. The fader they get, the closer you are to the garden. The dewdrops upon the petals glint with the faintest glimmer suspended in the galaxy.

The streets are bare without the usual sea of people flooding it like ants. You almost miss the bakery for the display is empty of its symbolic loaf bread, the bell over the door doesn't ring every five minute and the scent of freshly baked goods can only be noticed if you concentrated enough.

Out of nowhere, a hand shoots out from the shadows and pull you straight into a hard chest. A panicked squeal leaves your lips at the sudden maneuver as a restrained chuckle hits the midnight air.

"I missed you," you can almost hear the grin in his voice as he wraps his arms around your waist and locks his hands on the small of your back with no way of setting you free, just the way you love to be held.

Without so much as a warning, you stand on the tip of your toes and aimlessly kiss him, missing his lips by an inch and ending up kissing the corner of his mouth instead. Junhui's laughter dies in surprise of your bold approach but a second later, you feel the callousness of one hand on your neck, thumb on your mouth where it slips down a second later when his own covers yours.

The kiss is not as sweet and soft as Junhui's usual kisses. It's hungry, passionate, missing. The fortnight of your absence materializing in the form of teeth clashing and tongue pleading.

His forehead is on yours when you break away, breathless as though you've sucked in the other's soul and stored it in the hollow of your chests to have a fraction of the other within you, no matter if you are far apart or in each other's arms.

He holds you in an arm's length where the shadow can't reach, the glint in his eyes needing to translation that his lips are curled the way he does when he's ever so pleased. The shirt is whiter it its better days, the hemline of the shirt disappears into the waistline of the breeches, and wind caresses your knees where they end and your socks begin.

"How do I look?" You respond with a tilt of your own lips as you puff your chest as to make your shoulders broader than they are; like a man's.

"Just like a boy," Junhui nods approvingly and grips your hand, pulling you out into the street without thinking twice unlike when your tresses are all but hidden underneath a cloak, easily blown by the wind and exposed of your identity.

It's the ultimate disguise. You don't have to keep your head low and your gaze lower like you did when you were hiding beneath a hood. The hat that he wore is now perched on your head, securing your locks underneath and making you look like a boy that's barely come of age.

The street is coated with shadows and appear foreign at night with the stands covered with a cloth, each footsteps bouncing off the buildings like thunder without the boisterous voices of the peddlers shouting out prices. Only several shops are still open during the night as dim light pours out of the display window and illuminates the otherwise lonesome street.

You plant your feet at the sign pole, staring up at one particular arrow that is pointing left. Junhui, halted by your intertwined hands, mutters your name slowly as though reminding you why he would take you to the end of the world and back as long as it is not here.

"Why not?" You look at him straight in the eye and see the war within him, "We're both in peasant clothing."

He murmurs your name again, this time, nearing resignation, "Still, anything could happen and jeopardize our cover."

"I'll be careful," a blink of your eyes and a tug on his hand is all he needs to heave out a reluctant sigh.

The streets seem darker at the Hollow, ominous, like there is always someone in the corner of your eye and when you turn, nobody's there. Bumps dot your skin but you do not know whether it is because you are in foreign territory or because the night air is akin to snowflake kisses.