Beta Doesn't Mean a Bottom

Something That Isn't There

Chapter 7

[Shen Jue’s POV]

The house was quiet. Not unusual.

But silence used to mean comfort. Now it felt like a shadow.

Shen Jue sat on the edge of the bed, freshly dried hair still faintly damp at the ends. His robe was loosely tied, the scent of cedar soap still lingering faintly on his skin. The lights were dimmed, warm and golden, exactly the way Lin Wanyue liked them.

But Lin Wanyue lay beside him like a painting — still, untouched, unreachable.

His eyes were closed, breath even.

But the distance between their bodies was more than just inches.

They’d always had a calm relationship. Quiet mornings, steady routines, soft words. Lin Wanyue never made demands. Never raised his voice. He was like the lull of the tide — always there, comforting, easy to forget until you noticed he was gone.

And yet, now…

Now that same silence grated on Shen Jue’s nerves.

It was peaceful, yes. Still predictable.

But it was wrong.

Before, silence had warmth. Before, Lin Wanyue’s presence was a soft thread wrapping around him — subtle, steady, grounding.

Now, it was like lying next to a ghost.

When had this begun?

Maybe it was that moment earlier — when he stepped out of the dressing room and tried to kiss him. There was something in Wanyue’s eyes.

Not shyness.

Not resistance.

Disgust.

Shen Jue had seen it — just a flicker, like a shadow crossing the moon.

He’d brushed it off at the time. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he imagined it.

But that feeling hadn’t left.

His chest felt tight. His thoughts restless.

He turned his head, eyes scanning Lin Wanyue’s face in the low light. So familiar. So soft.

And yet — so far.

That feeling in his gut wouldn’t leave him alone. A strange, rising panic that had no shape or reason.

Nothing had changed, he told himself.

Nothing tangible.

Wanyue still smiled at him. Still made breakfast. Still called him "Ah Jue" in that light, airy tone.

So why did he feel like he was losing him?

Why did it feel like something had slipped through his fingers before he’d even realized he was holding it?

His hand moved before he could stop it — wrapping around Lin Wanyue’s waist, pulling him closer.

Lin Wanyue stirred slightly but didn’t resist.

Shen Jue buried his nose into his shoulder, breathing in the faint scent that had clung to him since high school. Light, unobtrusive, but always there.

He tightened his hold — just a little. Like if he held hard enough, Lin Wanyue wouldn’t drift away.

But a soft sound escaped from the figure in his arms.

“…Mn—Jue…”

A faint groan. Uncomfortable.

Shen Jue froze.

Then loosened his grip.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

He didn’t move away.

But he didn’t tighten his hold again.

His heart still felt restless.

And he knew, deep down, he wouldn’t sleep tonight.

Because something was wrong.

And for the first time in years, he didn’t know how to fix it.

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End of Chapter 7