Give Her an Inch

Early the next morning, before the sky had fully brightened.

Yuan Su's right arm had gone numb from staying in the same position too long, as though millions of ants were gnawing at it.

His brow twitched slightly, and he came fully awake.

Only then did he realize that his hand was still tightly clasped with the girl's hand on the bed.

Her hand was small and soft. Even in sleep, she held on with complete trust, her fingers nestled between his.

Morning light filtered through the thin curtains into the room.

It cast a bright, intimate streak of light across their hands.

Yuan Su's gaze lingered on their clasped hands for a long time.

Almost without thinking, he gently stroked the soft back of her hand with his fingertips. The delicate feel of her skin made his Adam's apple bob.

But reason soon returned.

With restraint, slowly and carefully, he released her hand.

The instant he drew his hand away-

Pu Yu's lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes groggily.

She propped herself halfway up, her long hair spilling messily over her shoulders, a few stray strands clinging to her faintly flushed cheeks. In the morning light, her eyes were misty and moist, like a startled fawn gazing around in bewilderment.

"Are you leaving?" she asked instinctively.

The moment their eyes met, it was as though the light had seared his heart, sending it racing beyond his control.

She really was beautiful.

Not with a bold, dazzling beauty, but one that was clear and pure, with a fragile quality to it.

Yuan Su suddenly understood why that bastard Chen Jun kept pestering her.

"It's still early."

Yuan Su's Adam's apple bobbed, and he abruptly averted his gaze.

When he spoke again, his voice had regained its usual cold firmness, masking his momentary fluster. "The injuries on your face look much better."

Pu Yu murmured an acknowledgment. Still not fully awake, she went limp and flopped back onto the bed, sinking into the soft quilt until only her sleepy eyes showed.

"Put the ointment on again after you wash up," he added.

"Mm..."

The sound trailed off, soft and drawn out, with the huskiness and nasal tone of someone who had just woken up. She almost sounded as though she were coaxing him.

That soft little murmur gave his heart another gentle scratch.

He stood and gathered up his quilt and mat, his tone calm. "I'll wash up first, then buy breakfast. Wait here for me."

"Okay." Curled into a ball beneath the quilt, Pu Yu obediently agreed.

After washing up, Yuan Su walked to the door.

His hand was already on the handle when he stopped.

He turned back to the girl on the bed, with only her head showing, and asked thoughtfully, "Aren't you going to ask how many minutes I'll be gone?"

Pu Yu paused, then realized what he meant. Her cheeks instantly grew hot, and she buried half her face in the quilt, her voice muffled:

"I'm not counting anymore..."

"Go ahead and count."

Yuan Su's voice had returned to its usual coolness, but it carried an unmistakable promise.

"Ten minutes."

With that, he opened the door and left.

Listening to the door close, Pu Yu slowly sat up.

She looked at her hand. It felt as though the warmth of his palm still lingered on it.

Somewhere in her heart, something soft seemed to have filled an empty space.

This time, Yuan Su returned right on time. He had said ten minutes, and ten minutes it was.

After breakfast, he carefully applied the ointment for her again, just as he had the night before.

The warm back of his hand brushed her cheek, sending a faint current through her.

"Once we get back," he instructed as he packed their things, "if Granny Li asks, tell her I suddenly needed to buy something, so we stayed an extra day in the city. Don't mention anything else."

Pu Yu watched his serious profile and nodded firmly. "Okay. I understand."

They checked out and boarded the earliest bus back to Whitebank Town.

Winter sunlight streamed through the windows, warm and pleasant.

For someone prone to motion sickness, the best remedy wasn't medicine or strongly flavored fruit-it was sleep.

On the return journey, Pu Yu fell asleep again.

Unlike on the trip there, she no longer forced herself to lean against the window.

When the bus turned, her head tilted with it and naturally came to rest on Yuan Su's shoulder.

Yuan Su stiffened for a moment, then relaxed slightly.

Her soft hair brushed against his neck, carrying the pleasant scent of shampoo, along with a warm, soft touch he couldn't ignore.

He turned his head and glanced down at the head resting on his shoulder.

Her eyes were closed, her long lashes trembling faintly. She wasn't completely asleep.

"Pu Yu."

He lowered his voice, an inexplicable tension in his tone. "Give you an inch, and you take a mile, don't you?"

At his words, Pu Yu instinctively tried to sit up straight.

"Then I won't lean on you..."

Just as she was about to lift her head from his shoulder, someone caught her arm.

Yuan Su's grip was firm, pulling her straight back onto his shoulder.

"Hm?" Pu Yu froze.

Yuan Su stared ahead without looking at her, his voice a little stiff. "Stay there."

"Didn't you just say I was taking a mile?"

"I don't want you wobbling around, getting carsick, and throwing up on me." He offered the flimsy excuse coldly, without so much as glancing her way.

Pu Yu pressed her lips together and gave a quiet smile.

She didn't call him out. Instead, she settled back against him, even adjusting herself into a more comfortable position.

A long while passed.

She secretly opened one eye and looked up at him from below.

From this angle, she could see the sharp line of his jaw, his thin, lightly pressed lips, and the high bridge of his nose.

Sunlight fell across his face, softening its cool contours.

"Yuan Su," she suddenly called softly.

"Hm?"

He answered quickly, as though he had been waiting all along-or listening all along.

"Yuan Su."

She called his name again, her voice even softer, like a feather brushing his ear.

The fingers hanging at Yuan Su's side curled slightly. He asked in a low, unreadable voice, "Are you going to sleep or not? If not, sit up properly."

Pu Yu didn't move. A few seconds later, she spoke softly, her voice thick with sleep:

"...I just wanted to say your name."

The bus jostled gently, and the scenery outside slid steadily backward.

He felt the fully relaxed weight of her head on his shoulder. He also felt something inside him grow unusually tender, even a little bewildered, because she kept calling his name for no particular reason, simply to call it.

"Mm," he answered quietly, as though replying to every time she had called him.

At that moment, his tense shoulder slowly relaxed, almost imperceptibly, letting her lean more securely against him.

"Go to sleep."

After a long while, he spoke in a low voice.

"I'll wake you when we get there."