"Fuck!"
He cursed out loud, looking at the sleeping figure. Letting out a slow, resigned breath, he muttered, "You really do not make things easy for me, Zixuan. Do you, Zixuan?"
Self-control — that was his last straw. But he wasn't sure how long it could last.
With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair, looking both hot and frustrated, before turning away from the couch. The sight of the disheveled Zixuan did little to help.
In fact, it made it worse — much worse — to control his desire.
As usual, Zixuan looked so peaceful when asleep, like he had finally let his guard down. His usual proud expression was softened by exhaustion; his long lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest followed a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
Only he was allowed to see Zixuan like this.
Ahhhh.
He really couldn't handle it.
He exhaled, straightening his posture. The ache in his lower abdomen reminded him that he shouldn't have started what he couldn't finish.
