Against the Algorithm

Chapter 34: When Want Becomes Intention

Her hands dropped instantly, eyes wide with mortification. " Cheng-ge! "

He didn't flinch. Just stepped a fraction closer, his gaze never leaving hers.

"You've been avoiding me since the gym."

Her mouth opened.

Closed.

And then, in a voice so quiet it barely carried beyond the space between them, she whispered, "You were looking at me like..."

He didn't let her finish. "Like I wanted you?" he supplied, his tone steady. "Because I do. "

Her breath caught.

He crouched slowly, bringing them eye level, his arms resting on either side of the couch as he leaned in—not closing the distance fully, not yet. Just hovering, watching her expression, watching the way her eyes widened and her lips parted, soft with confusion and something deeper. His voice dropped lower, the words slow and deliberate. "Did you really think I wouldn't want you just because you're beautiful, strong, and can bend in ways that make me forget how to think straight?"

She blinked. Swallowed. Tried to sink further into the cushions. And failed.

Sicheng's gaze softened—just slightly—as he added, quieter now, "Stop running, Yao-er. You don't need to hide from me." And then, with one hand, he gently reached out and brushed a strand of platinum hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long at her cheekbone, the heat of his palm warming her skin. "Because I'm not going anywhere," he said. "And neither are you."

The silence that followed his words wasn't uncomfortable—it was weighty, still, the kind of quiet that asked for care. Yao didn't look at him. Not right away. Her lashes lowered, eyes flicking toward the edge of his shirt rather than his face, and her fingers curled into the hem of the hoodie she wore, tugging the fabric closer as if it might steady the way her chest felt tight with the press of emotion she didn't quite know how to carry.

Her cheeks were a vivid flush, her lips parted, breath shallow, and when she finally spoke, it was so soft, so careful, it barely crested the air between them. "It's not you..." she murmured, her voice as fragile as the first breath before a confession. "It's... me."

Sicheng's head tilted, the faintest crease appearing between his brows, but he didn't interrupt. He didn't press. He just watched her. Waited. Let her find the words in her own time.

Her eyes still didn't meet his. "I've never wanted anyone," she admitted, each syllable strung together with hesitance, like they might dissolve if she didn't hold them gently. "Not like that. Not until you."

That stunned him more than he let show, though his breath caught—just once, quick and sharp—but he kept his body still, his posture relaxed, not pushing, not leaning in further, just holding space for her to say what she needed.

"I'm still..." She swallowed. "Not used to someone wanting me." There was something in her voice that twisted around his ribs. It wasn't just uncertainty. It was truth. Deep, unvarnished, shy—but true. Her fingers twisted tighter into the hoodie, and her next words came out barely above a whisper, as if saying them aloud cost something. "I don't have experience. With anything. Not even... not even kissing. Not until you."

For a beat, the only sound was the hush of the air conditioner humming faintly in the background. Her face was still down-turned, eyes locked on the fabric she clutched like a shield, and Sicheng, Lu Sicheng, ZGDX's cold, sharp, ruthless captain, found himself swallowing the soft, aching pull in his chest that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the kind of tenderness he rarely allowed himself to feel. Slowly—deliberately—he reached out again, his fingers curling just under her chin, gentle, careful, and tilted her face toward his. Only when she met his gaze—uncertain, pink-cheeked, vulnerable—did he speak, and his voice was impossibly soft. "I know, sweet girl, I have not forgotten and never will." he rumbled out, his thumb brushing lightly along her jaw. His eyes, always sharp, now held nothing but warmth. "I don't want you to be anyone else, Yao-er. I don't care how much experience you have. I don't want some perfect version of you that knows how to flirt or kiss or dance or handle this easily." His thumb swept her cheek, a touch so soft it barely registered. "I want you. The way you are. All of it. All of you."