If someone had told Chu Susu:
“Someday, you’ll see your favorite type drunk and throwing herself at you, but you won’t be moved, won’t even touch her, and will want to send her home overnight.”
She would definitely scoff: “Bullshit.”
They were all adults. If it was consensual, why should she play the Liu Xiahui.
But the current situation was exactly like that.
Chu Susu helped Han Xuan onto the bed, watching her long hair scatter, draping over the curve of her neck. As she unconsciously shifted slightly in bed, her chest rising and falling—it wasn’t that she didn’t want to lean in.
It was precisely because the temptation was too great that she took a deep breath, turned around, and went out, sitting alone on the living room sofa.
There were many unread messages on her phone.
Qiao Qian: “You really sent her away?”
Qiao Qian: “No way, no way? What are you hesitating for?”
Chu Susu: “……No, brought her to my place.”
Qiao Qian: “I knew it. Hurry up and go keep her company.”
Chu Susu: “She’s asleep.”
Qiao Qian: “Huh??? A living Bodhisattva is by my side???”
Chu Susu: “……”
Qiao Qian: “Come on, she went alone to a lesbian bar late at night, let you take her away—does it look like she just wants to sleep platonically under the covers with you?”
Chu Susu: “Forget it, that’s how it is.”
She sat outside for a while longer, replied to a few work emails, then examined herself in the mirror. She’d done her makeup specially for Han Xuan, but the other girl was drunk, so it was all for nothing.
Just as Chu Susu was pulling out a makeup remover wipe to clean her face, there came the sound of rustling footsteps from the bedroom.
Han Xuan padded out barefoot, poking out a small head.
“Susu?” she called softly.
Chu Susu saw Han Xuan’s ear peeking out from between her hair strands, pointed and almost lost in the darkness, like a little elf.
Her hand paused in removing her makeup: “You’re sober now?”
Han Xuan didn’t answer, just gave a shallow smile. Chu Susu knew from that gaze she was still drunk.
“Come here.” She beckoned. “Did you wear contacts? Come wipe your face.”
Though Han Xuan’s face showed no obvious traces of makeup, just in case, Chu Susu handed her a makeup remover wipe.
Han Xuan didn’t take it. She sat beside her and carefully pointed at her own eyes: “Contacts.”
As she spoke, a faint alcoholic aroma escaped her lips, wafting into the nose of the person beside her.
“I’ll get you the case.”
But Han Xuan’s hand wobbled unsteadily, unable to remove the tiny lenses. Afraid she’d poke her own eyeball, Chu Susu took the case: “Let me.”
Her fingers brushed Han Xuan’s eyelids. To see the contacts clearly, she leaned in closer.
Han Xuan sat very properly. After she said “Don’t move,” everything except her eyelashes’ slight tremble stayed still, letting the other’s fingers stroke back and forth over her eyelids, gently pinching, then removing the tiny black lenses, revealing eyes with a deep purple sheen.
Wait, deep purple…?
Chu Susu hadn’t time to think further before Han Xuan blinked lightly, hiding that faint sheen completely.
Then, she saw Han Xuan lean in like a little puppy, curiously examining her, and lightly took the makeup remover wipe, turning it to cover Chu Susu’s face instead.
“I’ll wipe for you.”
…
And then, somehow, they ended up on the bed.
Han Xuan was wearing her camisole nightie, facing her, eyes closed, the flush on her face not yet faded.
Clearly nothing had happened, yet it strangely made Chu Susu feel like it was already after the fact.
She reached out, touching Han Xuan’s cheek, poking at the dimple spot.
So soft.
The other seemed to sense it, letting out a soft whimper, then actively leaning her head over, burying into Chu Susu’s neck.
She naturally wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the person in her embrace.
Han Xuan’s skin was cool. Even in summer, under a thin blanket, it was still cold like ice. Chu Susu was the opposite—her body fresh from the shower still seemed to steam with heat.
Cold and heat intertwined perfectly. She almost wanted to reach out and stroke the other’s waist.
But she didn’t.
Chu Susu rested her chin on Han Xuan’s head, but it only made her hotter from the rubbing. She sighed softly: “I really want to kiss you. What to do.”
Of course, it wasn’t just a kiss—there were more unspeakable things.
She was always the one taking the initiative, and she knew if she did something now, everything would follow naturally. But for some reason, Chu Susu hesitated.
Qiao Qian had a point. Han Xuan knew she was a lesbian, actively asked her to take her home, to sleep in the same bed. To anyone, it was an obvious hint. Something happening would be normal.
But as she tried leaning her lips closer, Han Xuan’s trusting, pure gaze flashed in her mind. A guilt she’d never felt in such moments nearly drowned her.
She wanted it so much, but just couldn’t bring herself to. This inner conflict made her feel bewitched, constantly tugging at that string in her heart.
Chu Susu didn’t know what was wrong with her. She was never one to play saint.
As she lowered her head staring at the top of the other’s head, Han Xuan, perhaps hearing her words, suddenly lifted her head from the embrace, thirstily bringing her lips close.
Chu Susu’s breath hitched for a second.
She saw Han Xuan’s face enlarging before her eyes, that faint scent wrapping and engulfing her.
But right before their lips touched, Han Xuan’s gaze suddenly turned dazed again, then fell back powerlessly, burying into her embrace once more—clearly overcome by sleepiness.
Chu Susu sighed again, a trace of regret and relief passing through her heart.
Regret for not tasting those lips, relief for not doing anything to wrong Han Xuan in the end.
She stroked the little head in her arms, knowing tonight was over, suppressing her fanciful thoughts.
“Good night.”
…
The night was deep; both their breaths had evened out, harmoniously entwined.
Unbeknownst at what time, Han Xuan quietly opened her eyes, no trace of drunkenness in them.
The curtains weren’t fully drawn; the bright moon spilled an arc-shaped gleam through the gap, perfectly reflecting in those beautiful eyes, casting an unbelievable glassy light like undissolving smoky purple ink.
She half-sat up, carefully pulling Chu Susu’s entire body into her arms, rubbing coquettishly against her ear.
“Susu.”
Han Xuan leaned down, lightly pressing her lips to her forehead.
“Susu.” Like chanting some mysterious, distant incantation, her lips silently moved, repeating her name. “Susu.”
Then she curled up, quietly nestling by her side.
As if forever.
