Haoran noticed his little movement and raised a brow. "Are you shy?"
"Why… Why would I be shy because of you?" Zixuan snapped, forcing a disgusted expression, as if the act alone could shield the heat creeping up his neck.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Zixuan nodded with difficulty, though the closeness of Haoran's face made his pulse hammer. His throat felt tight, his voice shaky. "You don't believe me?"
Haoran calmly nodded, enjoying his annoyed expression. Being this close, he could see every detail of his face clearly.
Being stared down like that made Zixuan feel cornered, humiliated, and desperate to prove he wasn't flustered. His hand shot up, fingers curling into Haoran's collar. He yanked him forward with more strength than he intended, their faces crashing together.
But before Zixuan could say anything, Haoran tilted his head and captured his lips.
