He Kissed My Grave

The day Gu Huai died, Shen Yan was celebrating the birthday of the girl he had always loved.

Three years later, Gu Huai was reborn at nineteen, on the night Shen Yan first pinned him against the wall and said, “Don’t disgust me.”

This time, Gu Huai stopped clinging to him and quietly walked away.

But Shen Yan went mad.

Gu Huai clenched the bedsheet, his knuckles turning white.

“Are you afraid of me?” Shen Yan’s voice was low and hoarse, as if forced out from deep in his chest.

“…No.”

“Then why are you trembling?”

Gu Huai bit his lower lip and fell silent. Shen Yan’s gaze settled on the bitten lip, its color deepening to a vivid red under the pressure, like ripe fruit begging to be picked.

He slowly bent down, his nose almost touching Gu Huai’s. Their lashes brushed against each other in the air, each blink like a feather grazing the other’s cheek.

Gu Huai held his breath.

Shen Yan’s thumb grazed the corner of his lips. The touch was gentle, but burning hot. Gu Huai shuddered all over, and a sheen of moisture appeared in his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was from nervousness or something else.

“Shen Yan…” At last, he spoke, his voice breaking apart. “What do you want from me?”

Shen Yan didn’t answer. His gaze rested on Gu Huai’s eyes, the eyes that had once been filled with him. Now they were nothing but a still lake, occasionally rippled by the wind, yet no longer willing to stir for him.

Suddenly, he was afraid.

Worse than losing him was the thought that he no longer cared.

His heart was beating so fast it felt ready to burst.

And he didn’t even know who it was beating for.