Against the Algorithm

Chapter 47: More Than Enough

He didn't answer. Not right away. Instead, he lifted one hand, slow and careful, and let his knuckles brush the edge of the medallion. It shifted gently with the motion, the chain catching faintly on the fabric above her heart. His voice, when it came, was low. Rough. Almost reverent. "You wore it."

Yao's blush deepened, but she nodded, her voice small. "I haven't taken it off."

His gaze stayed there for another beat, caught between the necklace, her flushed skin, and the rapid pulse just beneath. And then, very slowly, very deliberately, his eyes lifted back to hers. Still hovering above her, body pressed close, heart pounding hard behind his ribs—but now for reasons that had nothing to do with tickling or teasing or laughter. Something in him settled. And something else stirred. Not hunger. Not yet. But want. The kind that was patient. The kind that burned. And the kind that didn't need to be spoken to be felt.

Still beneath him, still breathless, still flushed from laughter that had long since melted into something softer—deeper—Yao blinked up at him with wide hazel eyes that shimmered beneath the soft light filtering through the window. Her fingers curled tighter in his shirt, grounding herself even as the heat between them shifted from playful to something far more reverent, far more intimate.

Sicheng's hand hadn't moved from where it hovered near the medallion resting against her chest. His thumb brushed it once more, just barely, as if to remind himself it was real.

Then—

Her voice.

Soft.

Low.

Almost a whisper.

"I remember what you said," she murmured, eyes dropping slightly as if the weight of the moment had crept over her again. "When you gave it to me..."

His breath held.

"You told me that once I accepted it... once I agreed to be yours, to be your Intended..." She swallowed, her voice shaking just a little, not from fear but from the depth of what she carried in those words. "I was never supposed to take it off. Not unless I had to." Her fingers brushed the pendant where it rested over her heart, eyes flicking back to his. "You said... it was a bond."

He didn't speak. Didn't need to. Every part of him was focused entirely on her.

Yao drew in a breath. "And I don't. Not really. I mean—I take it off for the shower sometimes, but... not every time. Only if I feel like the chain might get pulled. I always put it right back on." Her words were shy, awkward in their delivery—but completely sincere. She wasn't telling him for praise. She was telling him because it mattered. Because he mattered. And because, even if he hadn't realized it before. This quiet, delicate, deeply private girl beneath him had long since accepted what that necklace meant. Not just the jewelry. Not just the crest. But everything.

Every piece of it.

Of him.

And she wore it, not because he asked her to—

But because she wanted to.

Sicheng lowered his head slightly, his forehead brushing against hers with a care so precise it nearly broke him. His voice came out low, thick, and barely restrained. "I remember what I said too." He paused. Let the weight settle between them. "I just didn't know it would mean this much to see it." She smiled—soft, a little shy—but real. And in that moment, she wasn't just his Intended. She was the only thing in the world that mattered. His forehead still resting against hers, her soft breath mingling with his, Sicheng's eyes slowly lowered to her lips—parted, flushed, trembling just slightly as if she already knew what was coming. And she did. Because he wasn't hiding it. Not the way his body hovered just barely above hers, not the heat in his gaze, not the restrained hunger coiling deep in his voice as he spoke—low, raw, reverent. "If I go too far," he murmured, his thumb brushing her waist through the soft fabric of her skirt, "you stop me."