#emotional vulnerability and introspection

[aventurineswife]

❤ The Language of Flowers | 015

❤ | Your options shall be: Sunday, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Veritas Ratio, Boothill, Jing Yuan, Blade, Phaimon, Mydei or Moze. Whoever you think suits this prompt.

❤ | Flower & it's definition: The Camellia flower | symbolizes love, devotion, and admiration. The meaning of the flower varies by culture and color.

China | Can represent the union of two lovers, with the petals representing the woman and the calyx representing the man. The flower's petals and calyx fall together, symbolizing eternal love.  Japan | Can symbolize divinity, grace, beauty, sophistication, and perseverance. Camellias are often used in religious ceremonies and origami art. 

White: Symbolizes purity and innocence, and is often used in weddings. 

Pink: Can symbolize long-distance relationships.

The language of Flowers

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff, Slow Burn (implied), Romantic Tension, Emotional Vulnerability, Symbolism, Introspective Moments, Tender Gestures, Quiet Affection, Established Relationship (implied in Jing Yuan's part).

Warnings: Slight Angst (in Dan Heng's and Ratio's part), Emotional Themes (guilt, vulnerability, and trust), Mentions of past hardships (Dan Heng's burdened past and Dr. Ratio's self-driven nature).

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5] | [Part 6] | [Part 7] | [Part 8] | [Part 8.5] | [Part 9] | [Part 10] | [Part 11] | [Part 12] | [Part 13] | [Part 14] | [Part 16] | [Part 17] | [Part 18] | [Part 19] | [Part 20] [Part 21]

The Camellia you held in your hand trembled slightly as you twirled it between your fingers. Its soft pink petals, so delicate and perfect, reminded you of fleeting moments—moments you cherished but feared would slip away too soon.

Dan Heng stood a short distance away, leaning quietly against the railing of the Astral Express's observation deck. The vast expanse of stars glittered behind him, but his attention was entirely on you. His stoic expression softened as his eyes settled on the flower in your grasp.

"You're quiet tonight," you murmured, breaking the stillness.

Dan Heng sighed, his gaze falling to the floor for a brief moment before meeting yours again. "I’ve been thinking," he said, his voice calm but tinged with hesitation. "About how… fleeting everything feels. About how even the stars seem to slip through our fingers, no matter how tightly we try to hold on to them."

You stepped closer, holding out the Camellia. "Is that why you avoid getting too close to people? Because you're afraid of holding on only to lose?"

Dan Heng’s sharp features tightened slightly at your question. He looked at the flower, the pink hue reflecting in his eyes, before he gently took it from your hand. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought.

"I’ve lost before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "People I trusted, places I thought were home. I’ve blamed myself for it all… which is why I try to avoid repeating the same mistake. But," he glanced at you, his voice deepening with sincerity, "you’ve made it… difficult to stay distant."

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand brushed yours. He looked down at the Camellia, then back up at you. "A pink Camellia," he noted softly. "It represents long-distance relationships."

"Yes," you replied, stepping closer so there was barely any space between you. "And perseverance. Just like you. No matter how far you try to run from your past, you keep moving forward."

Dan Heng smiled faintly, his usual cold demeanor thawing in a way that made your heart race. "And you’ve taught me that some connections are worth holding onto, no matter how far the distance—or how heavy the burden."

With a quiet resolve, he reached out, tucking the Camellia behind your ear with a tenderness you hadn’t expected from him. His fingers lingered for a moment, brushing against your cheek.

"Stay," he said softly, his voice betraying a rare vulnerability. "Even if I don’t deserve it, stay."

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with warmth. "Always."

And as the stars shimmered around you, the pink Camellia became a symbol of a love that would endure—no matter the distance, no matter the past.

The laboratory was silent except for the faint hum of machinery and the rhythmic scratching of Ratio’s pen as he worked. You sat across from him, watching the way his hair fell into his eyes and the sharp focus etched into his features.

"Dr. Ratio," you called softly, holding up a white Camellia. "Do you know what this flower symbolizes?"

He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of curiosity. "The Camellia?" he mused, setting his pen down. "White ones symbolize purity and innocence. Often used in weddings or religious ceremonies in ancient cultures."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "You’re correct. But did you know that in China, the Camellia is a symbol of eternal love? Its petals and calyx represent two lovers, falling together even in death."

His gaze lingered on the flower, and for a moment, his expression softened. "How poetic," he said, though his tone carried a touch of skepticism.

"Not a believer in such things, Dr. Ratio?" you teased, stepping closer and placing the flower on the edge of his desk.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you. "I believe in facts, reason, and logic," he replied, though the faintest hint of a smirk played on his lips. "Love, as described by poets and philosophers, often defies all three."

"And yet," you countered, picking up the Camellia and holding it out to him, "it has inspired countless minds to create, to persevere, and to leave behind legacies that outlive them. Doesn’t that make it worth believing in?"

Ratio’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he reached out and took the flower from your hand. His fingers brushed yours, lingering just a second too long. "You make a compelling argument," he admitted, his voice quieter now.

As he examined the flower, his sharp demeanor seemed to soften further. "If the Camellia symbolizes eternal love," he said, looking at you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush, "then perhaps it serves as a reminder that some things—no matter how illogical—are worth pursuing."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as he stood and stepped closer to you, the Camellia still in his hand.

"And perhaps," he continued, his voice low and deliberate, "some people are worth breaking the rules for."

He gently tucked the Camellia into your hair, his touch warm against your skin. His gaze lingered on you, the smirk gone, replaced by something far more genuine.

"Shall we test this theory together?" he asked, his voice carrying a rare softness.

You smiled, your heart full. "I’d like that very much."

The golden light of the sunset bathed the Xianzhou Luofu in warm hues as you sat in the garden with Jing Yuan. He leaned back against a tree, his long hair catching the light as he gazed at you with his signature calm smile.

In your lap rested a bouquet of red and white Camellias, their soft fragrance filling the air. You held one up, twirling it between your fingers as you turned to him.

"Jing Yuan," you began, "do you know what the Camellia represents?"

He chuckled, his deep voice resonating with warmth. "A lesson in flowers, is it? Please, enlighten me."

You smiled, holding up a red Camellia. "The red one symbolizes love and devotion. In China, it represents the union of two lovers, bound together even in death."

His eyes softened as he listened, his expression thoughtful. "A beautiful sentiment," he said. "And the white one?"

"Purity and innocence," you explained, holding up the second flower. "Often used in weddings, it represents a love untainted by time or hardship."

Jing Yuan reached out, his fingers brushing yours as he took the red Camellia from your hand. "A love that endures," he murmured, his voice almost wistful.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat under his steady gaze. "Exactly."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Then, Jing Yuan leaned forward, tucking the red Camellia into your hair with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"You’ve always been a symbol of perseverance and grace in my life," he said softly. "Much like this flower. No matter how chaotic things become, your presence reminds me of what’s truly important."

Your breath hitched as his fingers lingered against your cheek. "Jing Yuan…"

He smiled, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability. "I may be the ‘Dozing General,’ but with you by my side, I find it much harder to stay at ease. You bring a liveliness into my life that I didn’t realize I was missing."

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with warmth. "And you’ve shown me the beauty of a love that’s steady and enduring."

Jing Yuan chuckled, his voice low and affectionate. "Then perhaps it’s fate that we’ve found each other."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in twilight, you knew that the Camellias would forever symbolize the quiet yet profound love that had blossomed between you.

[loop-lover-central]

🙋i want to see the essay on how loop sees themselves

*Cracks knuckles*

Ok so I TRIED to make an insanely long essay like I wanted to but it quickly keeps dissolving into madman scrawlings because I am insane about this freak, and I am also tired and cannot stay on one plot thread long enough to make this shit coherent and legible. So I'm making it shorter and more concise.

Basically Loop is like an evolution of Siffrin. They were Siffrin. They're not anymore. But they haven't entirely accepted that fact because they have too much shit going on and would genuinely rather banana peel themselves than do introspection. So the timeline goes Siffrin→???→Loop

All this instability makes their relationship with Siffrin a hellscape, bouncing from hatred, to pity, to love, to shrimp emotions that nobody, not even the universe, could sort out.

Even in a post canon situation where Loop would have the time and resources to figure shit out and get things together it would probably take actually years for them to even fully acknowledge and accept the fact they're a different person now, let alone they're a person worth being cared about.

Loop has this complicated split between being Siffrin, the person they were at the end of their loops, and as Loop now. Trauma fundamentally altered them, and there's no going back and that's horrifying. They find themselves in the horrible position of wanting to support Siffrin but being trapped by all the typical failings OF Siffrin. Self loathing, fear of vulnerability, anger, etc. The person they used to be haunts them like a fucking ghost and it is eating away at whatever is left of this stars psyche.

It doesn't help that they low-key see Siffrin as the "better one" even tho Siffrin doesn't have much of a clue of who he is or what to do either because amnesia.

So, in conclusion, Loop just has NO FUCKING IDEA who they even are anymore. And has absolutely no time to find out before going through even more trauma that makes them, in their eyes, even worse.

[disarm-and-conquer]

[amaveon]

By The Candlelight: A Collection of Poems

Entry No. 20

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I'm falling for You, Don't make me go Blue.

[dailydivination365]

No matter what you do, you feel the projects you've been building collapse. Regardless of the circumstances, you feel stuck. Almost like God or the universe have a vendetta against you.

Regardless, you seem full of ideas that could turn into something, but they never get past the beginning stages.

Upon further reflection, the output of work seems just too much. You can't handle it alone, and it's making progress impossible.

Fortunately, the answer is quite simple. There needs to be unification, whether that be from aspects within yourself or partnership with someone in the outside world.

This approach leads to rapid growth. Suddenly, there's a direction to follow, but it's not one that you can force.

Your favorable circumstances may lead to you being generously aided or giving generous aid to someone else. Finally, one of your projects may move forward.

However, you must sacrifice something to complete such a project and overcome the constant destruction. It may be the desire to actually complete a project.

You can be impatient in your approach. This makes progress extremely difficult because you're using too much force. A young idea cannot be subject to such force, or else it will break.

Ultimately, it's a calling to reflect on yourself. You are the reason you're not making any progress and constantly encounter disaster instead of the natural process of destruction to creation.

Look within yourself and understand your intentions. Why do you want to accomplish your goals? What makes you want to forcefully complete them so fast? These answers will lead you to a deeper understanding of yourself and finally break the cycle.

TAROT INFO:

The tower - reversed

Page of wands - reversed

8 of pentacles - reversed

2 of cups

8 of wands

6 of pentacles

The hanged man

Queen of Wands - reversed

The hermit

[indiestar]

Do I value our relationship? Certainly, everything's different.

[sunnyanddumb98]

ODE TO SOFIA

Sofia sits to my left in the office. It is big, but we crumple. That makes us close, at least in distance.

Sofia likes horror and dresses in full black. Her favorite color is pink, she hates yellow because it’s too bright, too happy, leaves no space for much else.

I really admire her. She is an enthusiast for cooking and reading, collecting figurines, and making perfect gifts: baskets with your favorite character plushie, sewn by hand. She sends you a birthday cake to your new apartment in Japan. She is considerate and remembers everything I say.

Sofia is violent. She tells the truth. Diplomacy exhausts her; she wants more. She is angry at people she has never met. She is happy when someone expresses their rage.

When I think about her, the sound of my sister’s giggles comes to mind, in the backseat of my parents’ car, listening to Mr. Jones by Sui Generis for the first time.

She likes gore and blood, but she rejects the passive violence of societal expectations. Day to day, she fears the real horrors of self-destructive, evasive methods. She is soft and sweet.

She is critical thinking skills, getting kicked out of class for laughing way too hard. The pride of growing up when no one is watching. Learning something basic as a full-grown adult, in a quiet street on a Wednesday morning. all alone.

It is the strength you need to protect your identity. It is showing your new sneakers to everyone. Forehead kisses to say goodbye to your friends. Going shopping in pajamas for fresh morning bread. It is the wonderful thing we find in the dark, hidden away from the horrors of the light and polite.

Catching a complicit smile at a funeral. The catharsis after breaking your favorite vase. Spending your last penny on a mistake. The friendship I form with my paralysis demon. A scared kid ready to attack. A tale, a hug, a cookie, and we both say good nigth.

The moment you are forgiven after screaming. Being loved after being wrong, mistaken. The comprehension only a child has: to cry over the doomed one— the serial killer and the rapist, the goner — not for their imminent death, but for prohibiting themselves a slow day, a warm afternoon in bed, tea, toast, and a good book to read.

[thewritehaven]

"I'm an unbridled river, constantly overflowing my banks and nourishing the lives of those around me. I'm unbound by boundaries, recklessly pouring out my waters until I'm drained, never pausing to replenish myself."

— alterego🪐 {M.J.}

[antonettewrites]

Ask me why I'm holding back, go on...

I want you to feel the intensity of my emotions, yet I fear you might run away.

I want to tell you that holding you felt like second nature, and letting go was against my will.

I want to tell you how I can and I will marvel at you, and looking away feels like a mistake I never want to make.

How being in your silence, gives me peace yet it also drags me into a pit of noise.

How your very presence offers the hope I've longed for and the misery I've been trying to avoid.

You are the duality that consumes my every breath.

Living in this gray area is killing me, and I'm unsure how much longer I can hold on.

How do I go on when I don't feel you pulling back, yet I can't feel you stepping forward

[aventurineswife]

Could I request the Astral Express trio (you can choose Stelle or Caelus) with a reader (GN) who is also a member of the Express who is like an older sibling? Reprimanding them when they get hurt, or comforting them when they're upset?

No One is Alone

Summary: Life aboard the Astral Express isn't just about fighting enemies or exploring new worlds—it's also about looking out for each other. As the team's older sibling figure, you take it upon yourself to reprimand Dan Heng and Stelle after they return from a mission injured. Through scolding, comforting, and heartfelt conversations, you remind them that they're part of a team and don't have to face their struggles alone.

Tags: Astral Express Trio x Reader, Platonic, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Dynamics, GN!Reader, Protective!Reader, Team Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries (non-graphic), Mild guilt/self-blame themes, Emotional vulnerability and introspection.

The hum of the Astral Express filled the air, a comforting backdrop to life aboard the interstellar train. You sat in the lounge, scanning over a datapad while keeping half an ear tuned to the faint commotion from the infirmary. It was a sound you'd become all too familiar with since joining the crew.

Dan Heng and Stelle—recovering from yet another scrape they shouldn't have gotten into.

The infirmary door swished open, and March peeked out, her expression torn between amusement and sympathy. "They're ready for the scolding..." she chirped.

You sighed, setting your datapad aside. Rising to your feet, you felt the weight of your role—neither a fighter nor a strategist, but the de facto big sibling of this unconventional family.

The scene in the infirmary was almost comical. Stelle sat on one of the cots, a bandage around her upper arm, her usual unbothered expression firmly in place. Dan Heng stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, looking stoic despite the gash on his shoulder that hadn't been there when the mission started.

"Care to explain?" you began, arms crossed and gaze level.

"It was just a minor miscalculation." Dan Heng replied calmly.

"A 'minor miscalculation' doesn't leave you bleeding, Dan Heng," you said pointedly, turning to Stelle. "And you—didn't I tell you to call for backup if things went south?"

Stelle gave a sheepish shrug. "I thought we could handle it."

"You thought wrong." You sighed, your tone softening as you crossed the room. Grabbing a chair, you sat between them, your expression gentler now. "I know you're both incredibly capable. But even the best make mistakes. You're part of a team—you don't have to shoulder everything alone."

Dan Heng's gaze flickered to the floor, and Stelle's shoulders slumped slightly.

"You don’t need to push yourself to the point of breaking to prove anything," you added, standing to place a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "We're in this together. If something happened to either of you, we’d all feel it. And you’d feel the same if it were March, right?"

Both nodded, though they didn’t meet your gaze.

"Good. Now, promise me you’ll call for help next time."

"Promise." Stelle said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Dan Heng gave a slight nod, his stoic mask cracking just enough for you to catch the faintest hint of guilt.

Later, in the privacy of the archive, you found Dan Heng surrounded by stacks of books. He looked up as you entered, his expression as composed as ever.

"You didn't just come here to read, did you?" you asked, pulling up a chair.

"...No," he admitted after a moment, his voice quiet. "I thought I could avoid putting others at risk by keeping things to myself. I didn’t think about how that might affect the team."

You smiled softly, resting a hand on his. "Dan Heng, you're not a burden. You're not just running from your past anymore—you’re building a future with all of us. And we need you to trust us enough to let us help."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll try."

Later that evening, Stelle found you in the lounge, sitting with a warm drink. She plopped down beside you, her usual confidence dimmed by something you couldn’t quite place.

"You were right," she said, uncharacteristically subdued.

"About what?" you asked, setting your drink down.

"About asking for help." She stared at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I’m used to going it alone. But... it’s different with you guys. It’s like, I know you’ve got my back, and that’s scary because now I care. You know?"

You smiled, ruffling her hair like a younger sibling. "That’s not a bad thing, Stelle. Caring means you’re not just surviving anymore—you’re living."

She leaned into your side, her head on your shoulder. "Thanks, big sibling."

"Anytime," you said, wrapping an arm around her. "Just stop scaring me with the near-death experiences, okay?"

"I’ll try." she mumbled, and for now, that was enough.

(yonagi on X)

[cowboycarters]

hmmmm idk how to word this properly but why do people act like being apathetic should be the default for the outer and if you do show an emotion that shows something other than being deeply impacted, you get scolded? it’s okay to be vulnerable, even more so when it’s an interpersonal relationship. that makes you human and more relatable. acting like nothing hurts is worse

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

You bring good to my lonely life, honestly, It's hard for me to look into your eyes, When I say that I would be nothing without your love, I feel the rush, and it's amazing.

[eeshani]

Except you.

Sky is lit with the moon's soft glow,

And stars that twinkle in their show,

My soul longs for a tranquil night,

Yet my heart's turmoil is its own plight.

Please don't ask me to dance,

Or whisk me away in a wild romance,

For fear grips my heart, so true,

Except you, my fears subdue.

I've never been one for clarity,

Lost in my own world of obscurity.

My thoughts a maze, a winding thread,

Oh, my weary mind, lead where you're led.

Heart's out of my chest, once more,

Exposed, vulnerable, to the core.

Except you, who brings peace in the storm,

Except you, my heart's true form.

Beneath the waves or up in the sky,

I long to soar, to breathe, to fly.

Or find solace in another's embrace,

Except you, in your love's grace.

Let's not sugarcoat our parting now,

The truth, though bitter, we'll allow.

Keep it light, keep it sweet,

Except you, in my life complete.

It was good, the path we tried,

But weary feet can't always stride.

It's time to heal, to move along,

Except you, in my heart's song.

Heart's out of my chest, once more,

Pinned down, but stronger than before.

Except you, who lights my way,

Except you, in every day.

[niggadiffusion]

Boomerangs & Cathedrals

My words came jagged—

edges brittle like old glass.

But silence?

Silence cracked me down the middle.

Not ‘cause of you.

Because of me.

The echo didn’t leave—it unpacked.

Moved in.

Changed the locks.

Inside my throat,

a stage with no lights.

Curtains hiding

a truth that could’ve rerouted the plot.

But I blinked—

and the moment packed its bags

before I could stop it.

I smiled at the cookout.

Laughed at the jokes.

All while sipping lava

through a straw of composure.

No one noticed me choking

on all the things

I tried to mean

but never actually said.

Funny how silence

don’t even need words to cut.

It’s the ghosts of what ain’t get said

that build pressure in the chest.

Like a ribcage ain’t supposed

to hold this much nothing.

The day your eyes asked

and I just… blinked?

That’s the day I became

a building full of echoes.

Not abandoned—just never opened.

A temple for unfinished sentences

and dreams that got cold feet.

And the loudest sound I’ve ever heard

ain’t a scream or a gunshot—

It’s courage folding up

and crawling backwards down the spine.

It's the exhale

that never made it out.

Even now—

years later,

different clothes, different city—

I still hear that moment.

Still hear it bounce

between memory and almost.

Boomerang silence

with no off switch.

I swear, it etched hieroglyphs in my bones.

The kind only I can read.

Stories told in hesitation,

whole novels written in pauses.

Maybe that’s grace.

Maybe restraint

is its own kind of art.

Like digging through the wreckage

of a war I didn’t start

but still chose not to finish.

But still…

some nights I wonder—

did you hear it too?

That thunder rolling in after the look?

The storm that never rained

but broke the sky anyway?

[aventurineswife]

WHAT IF AFTER A NIGHT OF *ahem* cuddles *ahem* with dan heng, he wakes up first and when he looks at reader he sees THE BITE MARKS AND BRUISES he left behind and he panicks a little. Internally wondering how he is gonna apologise for entering possessive dragon mode but when reader wakes, they just play it off since they love him (but do lowkey worry on how to hide them from the rest of the astral express)

“In your arms, I lose control”

Summary: After a passionate night with Dan Heng, he wakes up to see the bite marks and bruises he left on your skin. Overwhelmed with guilt and panic, he struggles to apologize for letting his possessive instincts take over. However, you brush it off with love and understanding, playfully worrying about how to hide the marks from the rest of the Astral Express crew.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Fluff, Post-Passion/Intimacy Introspection, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Vulnerability, Humor, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Mentions of Biting And Bruising (consensual, within a romantic/sexual context), Slight Angst (Dan Heng’s guilt), Suggestive Themes (non-explicit), Reader mentioned covering up marks.

It was a rare, quiet morning aboard the Astral Express. The soft hum of the train's engine filled the air, but all was still in the shared quarters. The night before had been intense—intimate—unspoken, but felt deeply. Dan Heng had always kept his emotions guarded, but with you, something shifted. He had let down his walls, and for once, let himself indulge in the connection that was more than just physical.

Now, as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, it illuminated the scene. Dan Heng was the first to stir. His eyes fluttered open, a slight tension in his chest. The warmth of your body beside him was comforting, but something tugged at the back of his mind.

He turned his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you, the rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully beside him. His eyes traveled lower, and his breath caught in his throat.

The bite marks—his marks—were visible on your neck, darkened bruises on your skin. His hands had left their mark, clenching into the soft, fragile flesh of your body in his moments of passion. His heart skipped a beat, and his stomach turned. A wave of panic washed over him.

He had never intended to hurt you. It had been an impulse, a rush of emotions that had gotten the better of him. His instincts, always just beneath the surface, had taken control. The possessiveness he thought he had buried had surged like a dragon awakening, fierce and unrelenting.

"Did I...?" He whispered to himself, staring at the marks. His thoughts spiraled. He never wanted to hurt you—never wanted to leave a trace of himself on you like this. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

The guilt gnawed at him, and his mind raced with ways to apologize. What could he say? How could he fix this? You deserved so much better than a mess like him, someone whose emotions could break through his carefully constructed walls and leave their mark.

Suddenly, a soft sigh came from beside him. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light as you slowly came back to consciousness. Dan Heng quickly averted his gaze, though the panic still flickered within him.

"Morning..." Your voice was soft, laced with that familiar warmth that made his chest tighten with affection. As you stretched, your eyes caught the marks on your skin, and you froze for a moment.

"Dan Heng..." you said, your voice light and teasing, but with a hint of concern. "You really went all out last night, huh?" You gently touched the bite mark on your neck, glancing up at him with a playful smile.

Dan Heng stiffened, his face flushing a faint shade of pink. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, but you placed a finger gently on his lips, silencing him.

"I don't mind," you reassured him, a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "I love you, Dan Heng. You know that, right?"

His heart thudded in his chest, both relieved and overwhelmed by your words. But even as the tension began to ease, you could see the worry lingering in his eyes. He was still conflicted, still unsure about how to reconcile his own actions with his feelings for you.

"But," you continued, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "we might need to figure out how to hide these from the rest of the crew. I don’t think everyone will understand."

Dan Heng let out a sigh, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as the weight of his internal panic lifted. The tension in his body slowly dissolved as he leaned closer to you, his expression softening, though still tinted with traces of guilt.

"I’m sorry," he murmured again, his voice barely a whisper, as his hand gently brushed the marks on your skin. "I didn’t mean to be... so possessive."

You smiled warmly at him, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "You don’t have to apologize. I love you exactly the way you are."

Dan Heng's eyes softened, gratitude shining through. Still, his mind couldn't help but wander to the day ahead—how would he face the others knowing he'd left such a mark on you, physically and emotionally? But, for now, he had your understanding, and that was enough.

"Guess we'll need to be careful," you teased, lifting your head to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Maybe we can get creative with some scarves or high collars until the bruises fade."

Dan Heng chuckled, the sound low and soothing, the last remnants of his panic slipping away as he held you close. With you by his side, perhaps the weight of his past—and his instincts—would be easier to bear.

For now, he was content.