#he’s so beautiful he’s so smart he’s so handsome | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannieoftheyear · 3 days ago

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we're all stardust (x.mh)

During the day, he's the one you're supposed to be against, who you have to be better than. But in the darkness, when the sun sets and there's no one to witness but the moon and the stars, every year you find yourself in his arms.

⋆ ✧˖* pairing: minghao x gn!reader

⋆ ✧˖* w.c: 5,9k

⋆ ✧˖* genre: researchers au, rivalry, angst, smut. MDNI.

🎧: cold love — the8, hai cheng — the8

⋆ ✧˖* warnings: kissing, jealousy, unprotected sex, open ending. not really proofread.

⋆ ✧˖* note: it's my first writing a gender neutral reader, i'd really appreciate if you let me know if there are any mistakes :)

⋆ ✧˖* disclaimer! i know nothing about congresses or research groups, so i tried to make it as vague as possible, but i apologize if it makes very little sense

hope you like this! I'd love to read your thoughts ♥︎

Dew falls softly on the cloudy evening, the surprisingly empty dock at the beach blurred completely by the fog as the sun sets on the horizon. The soft sound of the waves reaching the shore eases the thoughts that have been tormenting you since the morning.

Every year is identical to the one before, and every night, you find yourself in the exact same spot, yearning for the calmness of the place to help you clear your mind.

The morning presentation haunts your every thought, the little mistakes made omnipresent as always, refusing to spare you a moment of peace.

A few steps echo behind you, slow but determined, and even if you choose not to turn around, there’s no denying that’s the same person whose face is burned at the back of your mind, ever present in the memories causing you trouble.

Minghao is a formidable researcher, intelligent as they come, with an enviable special talent for public speaking. A partner that everyone wants on their team and someone who no one wants to be against.

The first time you saw him, all those years ago, your first congress, and his second one, he walked around, leaving everyone starstruck on his way. Not particularly because of his looks, even if they’re an undeniable help, but it was his way with words, capable of convincing anyone listening of the theory of his research.

Smart, handsome, part of an award-winning research group. You were undeniably under his spell too.

But that first impression was short-lived. Days later, when it was your dreaded turn to defend the research you’ve been working on for over a year, that fantasy shattered right in front of your eyes as he, most elegantly, destroyed your hypothesis in a few sentences.

Your peers assured you that it was classical of that particular group, that it had nothing to do with you. They cheered you on all afternoon, even if they pitied you to some degree, and it was okay. You only had one night left at that too fancy hotel for the coveted congress you fought so hard to enter.

That night, at the same spot you're finding yourself at every year, you met him.

As you hugged your legs to your chest, planning a way to knock it out of the park the following year, he sat next to you, calm as he always was.

“You’re good.” He said, with the same truth telling tone he used to contradict your every point earlier that day.

“Thanks.” The crescent moon, up in the sky and beautiful as ever, provided with little moonlight, but it was enough to catch a glimpse of the side of his face, sharp as it was during the day, but with no trace of arrogance.

“I hope I wasn’t so harsh.” A glimmer of a smile appeared on the side of his mouth, timid and friendly, but it disappeared as his eyes caught yours.

“Not at all. You just demolished an entire year's worth of work in ten minutes.” You sounded hurt, like what he did was personal, which you knew it wasn’t, but at that hour of the night, you had no energy left to pretend.

“Sometimes we have to do that. We do what we need to win the funds.” His honesty caught you off guard, and the confession caused your anger to peak for a split second. But that’s what had to be done, and you knew it.

“Good to know I was a close competitor.” You found it in you to joke, and the chuckle he let out was a relief.

“Honestly, it was between yours and mine.” He replied frankly, made it impossible not to believe him.

Not much talking was done that night, the both of you enjoying the quietness after a long day of endless talking.

The following year, you were ready. You thought of every possible rebuttal, prepared every answer, practiced your speech double the times. You weren’t going to let your hard work get trashed in front of your colleagues again. Not by anyone. Not by him.

It was the way for you to prove yourself as a respectable investigator. Winning the research funds for your institute was the most important duty that week. And maybe catching the look in Minghao's face as you answered his every critique confidently.

That first day, when your name got sorted to go first, you knew you had won. Your presentation went as smoothly as it could possibly go, maybe with a stutter or two, but nothing to set your confidence back. And Minghao tried. Him and his team asked question after question, but you were two steps ahead. Regardless, he didn’t look appalled nor defeated. No. He was amused, a knowing smirk appearing as you answered his last question, looking him right in the eyes.

Those eyes hunted you until the sun fell from the sky, and you sat on the dock, admiring the stars that the city hides.

He found you again. Or maybe you went there hoping he'd show up. But there you were, sitting beside each other again, in the cold of the cloudless night, in a comfortable silence that both relieved and scared you.

“Do you usually come sit here?” Your voice sounded louder than expected.

“Mostly when I need a bit of peace. After days like today, for example.” Something in the calmness of his voice made you feel safe. Like that wasn’t the same man threatening the future of your investigation hours before.

“I like that the stars are visible here.” You settled on replying, with a slight fear of annoying Minghao, but deep down, knowing he wouldn’t be there if he minded your presence. “Too much light contamination in the city to appreciate them.”

“Sometimes, I sit here and count them. It’s really good to take your mind off something.” He agreed in his own way.

And that night, you realized you two were much more alike than you thought. He seemed ruthless on the stand, with the complicated vocabulary he used in his speech, and the way he twisted his questions to make it almost impossible to answer without sounding like an idiot, could frighten even the oldest colleague in your team.

But as you spent another night with him, very few words exchanged, giving a whole new meaning to silence, you felt like you were beginning to understand him. The constant murmur that surrounds every minute of the congress and the false smiles that made your mouth ache at the end of the day, it all affected him the same way it affected you. If not, he wouldn’t be seeking a safe place in the night, in the relaxing sounds of the waves crashing on the shore, in the cold breeze sweeping the loose sand on the beach.

That year, your institute won the research funds for the first time in years, and he was the first person to congratulate you.

The first time he kissed you, you had been expecting it all week.

It was a particularly hard year. Every research presented had huge potential, and not even Minghao’s team’s antics managed to cause a big enough commotion.

You and Minghao found yourselves sitting at the dock every night, restless, overthinking, attempting to clear your minds, and accepting that maybe neither of you was going to win that year.

That last night, after the winner was announced, and everyone either went out to celebrate or went to sleep already planning how to be better the following year, you were resting against the unreliable wood railing on the dock, somehow not sad because of the defeat, but rather glad that the week was finally over.

The sun hadn’t set yet, letting you see him as he walked over to your spot, with a light smile on his face.

“You look happy for someone who lost.” After the days you had been through together, your interactions had become friendlier. You allowed yourself to joke more often, and he showed his smile at every one of them.

“You know I don’t care about winning. They deserved it.” He rested his hip against the railing in front of you.

His ability to be relaxed even after losing rose to be the one thing you envied him the most for. Public speaking, it took practice, broad vocabulary, you learn words every day, but rising above what affected you, it was nearly impossible.

“I’m sure you’re already planning what to do next year.” The golden light as the sun began to set gave a softness to the features on his face that you had never noticed until then.

“I don’t know if I’m coming next year.” The disappointment you felt as his words reached your side of the dock couldn’t be described. You’d never admit it was because you longed to see him every year.

“They’d be stupid not to invite you.” You couldn’t even imagine the idea of him missing the year’s event.

“It’s not that.” He played with the hem of his sweater as if for the first time in his life, he was having trouble finding the right words to say. “I’m thinking of taking a few months to rest. I love what I do, but the past years wore me out.”

“You should do it.” You stated as a reply, not even a second later. Not because if he didn’t show up, it meant you had a bigger chance at winning, but because, once again, you understood him.

“Don’t encourage me only so you can win next year.” He stepped off the railing, walking towards you with a growing smirk.

You recognized the sarcasm in his tone but still rushed to continue.

“I beat you once, I can do it again. I don’t need you to be absent to win.” He chuckled, now standing in front of you, leaning into his hand beside yours on the railing. “But I mean it, whatever first draft hypothesis that’s written in your notes can wait, your wellbeing can’t.”

“Aw, you care about my wellbeing.” The few inches that separated your bodies made it impossible for you not to react to his teasing, and the smell of his cologne surrounding you intensified everything.

“I can’t have a lousy opponent.” Your eyes rolled in an attempt to appear like you didn’t care. But he knew better.

“You’ll have to get ready for when I return because I won't be holding back.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, convinced he had you where he wanted. Maybe he did.

“You've been holding back this whole time?” Deep down, you knew what you wanted. But his brain remained a mystery, leaving you expecting his next move.

“I never held back when being against you.” Teasing you with his honesty had become normal for him.

“Believe me, I know.” Competing with him gave you the drive to improve, whether you cared to admit it or not. “Your team’s still going to harass me with terrible questions, though.”

“It’s just one year, love, don’t miss me too much.” He said as he moved his hand closer to your waist.

He trapped you against the railing, both of your weights resting against the creaky wood. And from one moment to another, the piece where you’d been standing against that whole time broke and fell down into the waves below.

You’re sure you screamed, convinced you’d be drenched from head to toe in an instant, but Minghao got a hold of your waist and secured you in his arms.

When you realized what had happened, you were staring into his dark eyes, sun fully set, leaving the moon to guard you, and his face so close to yours that the only breeze you felt was his rushed breath against your skin.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you goodbye?” He asked, his face just barely moving away so he could see your reaction.

He was still holding you, like you could've vanished if he didn’t stay with his arms around you. You refused to stand up straight, relishing in the feel of being surrounded by him. And you didn’t hesitate for a second to nod at his request.

Minghao’s plump lips first touched yours timidly, but as one of your hands sneaked behind his neck and held him there, he took more initiative. He pressed harder against you, mouth moving over yours as his hands began to wander around your back.

Neither of you cared about the temperatures dropping or about the pending question of what this would mean to the both of you. The only thing that mattered in that moment was your bodies tangled together, mouths moving deliberately, high on the other's sighs, and hands keeping your chests flushed.

It's unknown for how long you two stayed there, possibly the longest goodbye ever in the history of man kind.

It was the strong cold wind that separated your poor-clothed and hot bodies. The dreaded farewell was uncertain, feelings and thoughts remaining undisclosed due to the fleetness of your relationship.

The stars on the sky were the only witnesses to the two rivals becoming one, a shared connection no one was aware of. In the dark of the night, the blue moonlight could conceal what didn’t want to be seen and your late nights together that were implicitly forbidden to be shared.

The year he returned, two years after that kiss that never left your mind, it was like he came back with three times the will to win. A research like no other, and a look in his eyes that didn’t hide his newfound drive.

That year, you can say you truly didn’t care about winning, your needs blurred by his presence. Everyone knew who was going to take the funds home, your whole team, his team, and everyone you talked to. It was a given.

Minghao was the talk of the week. The ruthless mastermind was back to prove himself. Smarter, colder, and somehow more handsome, he took the stand as if he had already won, presented the research that he started after his break, and answered every question with a growing smirk.

You went just after him, already defeated, a full circle moment after your first time. And when his eyes landed on you, you expected to receive a serious look, not knowing what happened in the time you hadn’t seen each other. But the millisecond he registered it was you in front of him, the smile you were growing to love showed up on his face.

It was a rushed reunion. So many more people had joined the congress in the two years before, so the organizers were rushing him to return to his seat and pressing you to stand on the stage quickly. You barely had time to greet each other with teeth showing smiles before you got separated.

During that week, he never showed up at the dock, probably being kept hostage by his colleagues to talk to everyone at the dinner parties that you always skipped.

It felt too lonely without him out there, even more so than the year he missed the congress. Knowing he was there, so close, yet so far, was worse than losing. Deep down, you hoped he wanted to be alone with you just as much as you.

But you knew those feelings were wrong to have. What feelings could you possibly have for someone who you saw once a year for a few hours? His life outside of the congress was a mystery to you, just as yours was a mystery to him.

That final day, after a week of non-stop talking to other people, he finally sat down by your side on the damp dock.

You were about to give up. After waiting and waiting, you had come to the conclusion that he simply didn’t want to see you.

But he did. And he came to you.

“I heard your friend won the funds last year.” Were the first words he uttered to you.

“No one came even close.” You forced yourself to look ahead, not wanting to look at him and feel something you shouldn’t.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here.” He said quietly, a ruffling sound coming from his side overpowering the strong wind’s noise.

“I came here every day.” You weren’t mad, but your brain was only capable of coming up with short responses. Those five words meant so much more. You hoped he'd understand them.

“I wanted to too, but they were dragging me to all those dinners.” It was nice hearing that, even if deep down you had already figured out why he wasn’t showing up.

The neurons in your brain weren’t connecting properly, failing to deliver a response to his honest explanation. Were you sure what you wanted to say to him? Was there even something to say?

“How was your break?” You’ve never asked personal questions before that, fearing you might cross the imaginary line you’d drawn.

“Boring.” He chuckled. “I wanted to work, but they basically locked me out of the institute.”

They hadn't fixed the broken railing on the dock, but a new lamppost lit up your spot almost frighteningly well, leaving your bodies out in the open for anyone to see.

“That was nice of them.” You could feel his eyes drilling holes on the side of your face. “You’re too stubborn.”

“You're one to talk.” Your dynamics luckily hadn’t changed, encouraging you to have a little hope.

You chuckled back in response but uttered no witty reply. For the first time in all the years you had known each other, the suffocating silence was uncomfortable.

The moon stared down at you, and you could only stare back, hoping that looking at the peaceful night sky might give you some answers.

“Isn’t it crazy that the moon was made from a part of earth?”

As you both were staring at the stars, avoiding one another, the question left your mouth before you could even stop it.

“Everything we see from here is made of the same elements.” There was a tone underneath his calmness that drove your head to turn to him.

“Yeah, that’s true,” When he connected his eyes with yours, you instinctively looked away, “but the moon was formed after the impact, and it still stayed after.”

By that point, you had no idea what you were saying, just blurting out words in hopes of filling the silence. You needed him to say what you longed for. You needed to know if what you were feeling at that moment, he felt too.

“Can we not do that.” You’ve never heard Minghao being mad before that moment, but as your whole body got covered in goosebumps, you were almost afraid of what he meant by that.

“Do what?” Against your will, you found yourself analyzing his expression.

“Being vague.” He said shortly.

“You’re not being very expressive either.” You sneered back, not angry but definitely bothered. He sighed deeply as you had caught him in his hypocrisy.

He wanted you to be expressive with what you wanted to say, but was he ready to hear how his lips were the only thing you were thinking about? How your will to even go to the congress that year came solely because you were going to see him again?

“Do you remember that night?” He asked quietly, interrupting your rambling mind by voicing out exactly what was troubling you, as if he could read your thoughts. He didn’t have to expatiate on what night he was referring to for you to know.

“The night we both lost?” You answered to torture him a bit, even if you were sure he knew you remembered.

“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds of thought, “I forgot about that, but yeah, that happened too.”

It was an oddly warm night, not even the morning rain or the breeze running across the beach could do something to lower the temperatures. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was your body heating up at the mention of that night, or Minghao's body so close to you again, but the red on your cheeks was noticeable from miles away.

“Why do you ask?” His mind was always a wonder. When he uttered his thoughts out to you, it was easy to understand him, but the inner workings of his brain were something out of this world.

“Do you still think about it?” You weren't exactly shocked by the question, but you still lost your breath for a second. “I gotta make sure I'm not the only one.”

The conversation after Minghao’s semi-confession became a blur. Your mouth stopped asking permission from your brain to come out with words, and your skin ached to feel his against you.

Moment after moment, step after step, between breathy kisses and longing touches, you stumbled into your lifeless hotel room, crossed the door with tangled limbs and flying pieces of clothing. Not bothered to turn on the lights, the open window provided with light-blue moonlight to burn the sight of Minghao’s naked body on your memory forever.

You didn’t expect it to happen again the following year. It was fine for you if it only happened once, but as you walked over to his sitting body on your claimed spot, you knew. You both tried to nonchalantly talk as always, but your attention was placed on his lips moving, on his hands supporting the weight of his body, on his overly flirty tone. It was inevitable to end up between his arms again.

The friendly competition continued. Your group would win, then the next year his did. Nothing really changed, except the recurring visits to each other’s bed at night, the late-night conversations now regularly held in between the sheets, his arm under your neck and yours around his naked torso.

Even if in the mornings you’d wake up alone in your bed, or sneak out before the sun rises if you ended up in his, you had an unspoken agreement that it shouldn’t slip into your daily lives. You had to pretend your skin hadn’t been permanently affected by his touch, control your lingering glances, and limit the times you said his name to your colleagues.

As you feel the warmth of his body sitting by your side, you can only think of him on top of you, his lips kissing every inch of skin they can reach as he presses into you. But soon, you remember why you were sitting alone for longer than usual at the dock, and everything turns a slight red shade.

“Didn’t think you’d come today.” You coldly say, failing to mask your jealousy.

You know you have no right to feel a claim over him. Why should you? You’ve never talked about your relationship beyond that kiss, and no one else knows about your recurrent encounters. It’s normal for other people to flirt with him, and you shouldn’t get mad if he flirts back.

“I wouldn’t miss my second favorite time of the day.” Minghao replies like he knows what’s on your mind.

“What would be the first?” You dare looking to your side and find his eyes on you, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Seeing your face after I finish my presentations.” You chuckle instantly as he finishes those words, a vague thought that he’s flirting with you quickly getting shut down.

“I’m sure there are a lot more faces you’d rather look at.” If he hadn’t caught on to your jealousy by now, then you just blurted out exactly what was needed for him to.

His fingers tumble over yours, electrifying grazes erupting goosebumps from your hands up until the hair growing behind your neck.

“Didn’t take you as the possessive type.” He teases, and you take the bait.

It comes to a point where it’s impossible to hide what’s on your mind from him, so being honest is the best way to get what you want.

“I’m not possessive,” you snap your hand away from his, and you catch his eyes ready to tease again, “and I’m not jealous either. I just… notice what you do and who you do it with.”

“So, if you’re mad, I’m guessing it’s because you disliked it.”

“I’m not mad.” You can’t be mad. “I come here to relax, can we not.”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” In a perfect world, you’d believe his disappointed tone was because of you and not your arrangement. If that’s what’s it called.

“I've just been doing other things.” Trying to shake him off your head. Trying to see if you could resist his pull. “You're one to talk. You haven’t been coming here.”

It's weird to talk about your spot like it’s a ritual between you two. Maybe it is.

“I came every day, just later. You need to be more patient.”

“What? So, I’m just supposed to wait for you until you decide to show up?” Your calm tone evaporates by the end of the sentence, finishing with more anger than you'd wanted to show.

“If you wanted to see me alone, then yes.”

“Wow.” His audacity leaves you speechless, barely a cough of air on your lungs. “You’re mistaken if you think everything I do here revolves around you.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” His eyes soften as he tries to correct himself.

“Well, that's how it came out.” A deep breath is all you need to calm down and look him in the eyes. “The most important thing for me here is my work, my investigations, and my team. If your perception of me is any different than that, then you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

The world around you becomes silent just in time for you to hear his whisper.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything.” The needy part of you begs to give in to him. But the rational part screams at you to turn away, that you can’t give into someone who thinks of you that way. “You're the most intelligent person here. Every year.”

How dumb you are. Dumb enough to fall again.

You began to stand up some time in your ramble, and his hold on your hand brings you back to earth. You want to run away from him, your feet ready to do so, but his soft eyes and his fingers caressing the back of your hand erode the edges of the decision-making part of your brain.

“You can't fix everything by touching me.” It’s merely a way to let it go for a while, a temporary band aid that only hides the issue and doesn’t heal it.

“I’m being selfish.”

He brings your body to his, so close that his chest heaving makes contact with yours, and his face is all you can see. His hands wrap around your waist just like they’ve done countless times, so naturally that you can’t bring yourself to stop him.

Time stops as your eyes catch his, a flash of a moment of doubt before you give in and close the short distance between your lips.

Neither of you ever dare to speak up about the affair that’s been going on for years, the pushing and pulling of competing against one another and then falling into the other's arms. Those feelings only come to light when no one’s to witness, when your lips dance synchronized and your hands roam each other's body with a need that can only be seen by the sea and the stars.

This late at night, the way to the hotel and up to one of your floors is always empty, like a desert away from the oasis you just left behind. Minghao leads you to his bedroom this time, his hand not letting go of yours during the short walk away from the elevator.

Whatever you had planned to tell him falls down your priority list as he opens his door and traps you against the nearest wall. His plump lips chase yours, continuing what you were doing at the dock before deciding the spot wasn’t secure enough for what the kiss was becoming.

Your clothes fall to the ground seamlessly, leaving you bare only for his touch to feel. His fingers graze and tease every part of you he knows will have you ready for him, and you sigh into his mouth at every one of them.

Getting his clothes off takes more effort from your part, as he refuses to get his hands away from you. His skin that you craved the entire day to touch is finally at your reach, hot against the cold air coming in from his open window.

Admit it or not, you’ve been ready for him to take you since the day you arrived. So, when your bodies move towards his bed and the soft sheets pillow your back, when he slots between your open legs, looking down at your body with indiscreet hunger, you don’t need preparation for him to slide in.

Minghao stretches you open slowly, letting you feel everything as he makes his way inside of you. The drive of his hips against yours makes of you a moaning mess, hitting every spot that causes your legs to tremble like it’s his second nature.

His sensual, deliberate thrusts make your body react in ways only he is capable of. He’s inside you, but you crave more, need more of him. Your hands find their way up to his neck and push him down so his lips meet yours once again, but his grunts and your sounds make it impossible for them to connect for more than a second, leaving you moaning into his mouth as he reaches that point that has you mumbling nonsense, mind blurred by the pleasure.

He might be babbling something too, his mouth moving over to your ear telling you that much, but you hear none of it. Every one of your senses has stopped doing what they’re supposed to, their job now solely focused on pulling the stars off the sky and into the hotel's bedroom ceiling.

Minghao's thrusts become less calculated, more erratic, and you close your eyes as your legs wrap around his waist as tight as possible to help him steady and push him further inside.

The time passed could be something between five minutes and two hours, as when you’re with him you’re somewhere else where time isn’t a thing. But there's one thing you’re sure of. As his hands grope every bit of skin of your chest he wishes to, and your eyes open to find his already analyzing your every feature, the realization that your connection with him is a one in a lifetime occurrence hits you unexpectedly like a crash.

But you can’t develop on that thought, not when Minghao speeds up, drilling into you as he chases his own orgasm. He pounds hard, determined to get you to cum with him, but you can’t help to think there’s something more to it. Something more in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his hands caress the sides of your chest with more care.

Sometime between his touch, your thoughts, and his thrusts, something inside you snapped, white flooding your eyes and ears as you come around Minghao, tightening around him, making his hips falter.

You don’t want him to pull out, yearning for him to stay inside you forever if that meant you’d never have to leave his bedroom and pretend you two have no relationship past being competing colleagues. But that foolish wish can never be fulfilled, and your dream remains unspoken as he thrusts for the last time before pulling out of you and painting your stomach white.

After lazily cleaning up, naked under the white sheets, you become a tangled mess once again, staring at nothing as the breeze coming from the window fills the silence.

“Do you think we matter?” Your thoughts push you to ask. “As in, what we do in our lifetimes.”

Minghao takes a few seconds to answer, his hand drawing circles on your side never stopping. “I think we, what we do, and our work all matters for us right now. But in the entire universe, considering the thousands of planets and millions and millions of years of history, we don’t.”

“Are we really just a speck in time? That would make our lives completely meaningless.”

If nothing matters, why do you have to hide? Why does your life revolve around things that seem much simpler when taking into account the entire world?

“I don’t think of it that way.” He disagrees calmly, but not to argue with you. Only on the stand you’re forced to fight for your thoughts, but if there’s no one listening beside you two, and maybe one lonely bird flying past the window, you’ve never felt the need to prove your point to the other. “I think we’re part of something bigger than we can ever imagine.”

“Are you saying we could be connected to something at the other end of the universe? Even if it’s billions of lights years away?”

“Of course.” You chuckle at his quick answer, looking up at him from his chest, and he lowers his chin to be able to look at you.

“Explain it to me.” It seems to be a recurrent thought in his mind, and with your love for his interpretations, and a want to understand his train of thought, you can’t repress the need to hear him talk about it.

“Think of it this way.” He starts, now brushing your hair away from your face so nothing stands in the way of your connected eyes. “Everything we know came from the explosion that originated the universe, that means that, at one point, every object in space was close to the other, made from the same elements, and only after millions of years they grew apart.”

“A poet might say that we’re all made of stardust.” You reply in a breathy chuckle, not knowing what to add to such a beautiful explanation.

“They’d be right.”

Silence envelops you once again, the crickets hidden outside making an appearance. There are so many questions hanging in the air waiting to be asked, but you can’t bring yourself to. Minghao’s chest heaves under your ear, calmly reminding you of his presence.

He falls fast asleep under you, never letting go of his grip around your waist. But too much is happening inside your mind to relax and fall asleep with him.

The stars watch you from outside the window, the only witnesses of every part of your relationship with Minghao. There’s a choice to be made. Does it matter? Or is everything meaningless in the long run?

But you can’t afford to think like that. Your life, your work, the work everyone around you does and lives to do, that’s what’s important. And even if he believes in what he said earlier, Minghao knows it, too. That’s why neither of you dare to change your current situation.

You could not get up as the sun rises. You could stay in bed with him. You could let his warmth drift you off to sleep. You could wake up in his arms and tell him every thought that has passed through your mind while he slept soundly. You could ask him about his true feelings regarding your relationship and you. You could do so much more than stay still in bed waiting for a sign in the night sky to guide you.

note: i just wanted to say, for what it's worth, that when i started writing this story, i didn't have an ending planned. So, i as i approached the end, it became so hard to write that i got stuck for weeks. An open somehow ending felt right.

thank you for reading <3 i'd love to hear your thoughts!

#minghao au #kvanity #seventeen au #svt au #minghao angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #minghao smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #minghao x reader #minghao imagine

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