"Prince Onii-chan, I finished it!"
In a spacious, luxurious bedroom, Eriri held up her finished draft and cheered excitedly.
"Really?" Shichen, who had been idly lying on the bed, immediately sat up and walked over.
"Look, Prince Onii-chan—how is it?" Eriri handed him the pages.
Shichen took the manuscript and read through it carefully. It was indeed the ending he was familiar with.
"This is really well done," he couldn't help saying.
The plot followed the same beats, but the art style was completely different—so different it almost felt like a waste not to see it in the original style.
"Hehe… really?" Eriri scratched her head and smiled awkwardly at the praise.
"You worked hard," Shichen said, placing a hand on her head and gently ruffling her hair.
"It's fine. This is my job," Eriri shook her head.
And that was true—she had to release new work regularly to keep her momentum. Shichen giving her a storyline was helping her.
He hadn't dictated it line-by-line; he'd only sketched the outline and let her interpret it. And she got it—she immediately understood what made it satisfying and emphasized those key moments.
Talent was talent.
And Eriri's talent in this particular niche was… distinctive. Luckily, Shichen didn't mind at all.
"Can I read it now?" Shichen asked.
He hadn't read her earlier drafts; he'd planned to wait until everything was finished. He had a bit of a completionist streak—starting something unfinished bothered him, and for this kind of work, stopping halfway was torture.
"Sure. Go ahead and read," Eriri said. "I'm going to take a shower—my hands are covered in ink."
"Okay. Take your time."
"Mm…" Eriri left shyly.
Shichen took the stack back to the bed and leaned against the headboard to read. Eriri's bed was huge and soft, like something out of a fairytale—warm, comfortable, and faintly scented with her shampoo and perfume.
It was past midnight—deep into the night.
Eriri's parents knew Shichen was still in their daughter's room. But this wasn't new anymore, and they didn't make a fuss. They were the kind of family with a very high tolerance for… unconventional things.
Shichen finished reading quickly. The story beats were familiar, so he found himself focusing more on the art—more refined, more detailed, more polished.
He enjoyed it, but once he finished, he didn't reread it.
Honestly, what mattered more wasn't the pages—it was spending time with Eriri.
Recently, the distance between them had disappeared. Eriri would drift closer without realizing it, natural and unguarded.
They only needed one spark—one clear step forward.
Shichen set the pages aside and lay back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
I should've suggested showering together, he thought. She probably wouldn't have refused. And after that, anything would've happened naturally.
What was I thinking, reading now? We could've read it together afterward…
He was still regretting it when footsteps sounded outside. A moment later, the door opened—and a girl stepped in like white porcelain come to life.
Her golden hair was damp, droplets sliding down onto her shoulders. Her skin was flawless, pale and luminous. She was wrapped in a towel from chest to knees, but everything else—her damp hair, her blush, her hesitating posture—was quietly overwhelming.
"Eriri?" Shichen looked up, startled.
Not because she came back—but because she came back so fast. He remembered her showers usually taking much longer.
"Prince Onii-chan… sorry to keep you waiting," Eriri said softly, gripping the edge of her towel.
"…I don't think I waited long," Shichen replied with mock seriousness.
Eriri went quiet, fingers tightening.
"Heh. I'm kidding," Shichen said, softening. "Come here. You'll catch a chill."
"The AC is on…" Eriri murmured, taking small steps toward the bed.
She stopped at the edge, head lowered so much Shichen couldn't see her expression—only her ears, bright red.
Shichen shifted closer and reached for her hand.
Her hand was trembling.
Ignoring her stiffness, he tugged gently and pulled her into his arms.
She was so slender it almost felt like he'd hugged air.
Eriri stayed rigid against him, eyes squeezed shut. The closer she got, the more nervous she became.
Shichen couldn't help smiling at how tense she was.
"Why did you shower so quickly today?"
"I…" Eriri's lips moved, but the words wouldn't come.
"Because you didn't want me to wait too long?" Shichen guessed.
Eriri nodded.
"And why didn't you want me to wait too long?"
Eriri hesitated again.
Shichen lifted her chin, making her look at him. Her face was completely flushed.
"I…" Eriri swallowed, then forced herself to meet his eyes. "Because of the story."
"The story?"
"…The heroine was shy and stubborn, but she still took the first step."
"So you…"
Eriri nodded. "I learned something."
Shichen's expression softened.
"And you chose tonight?"
"Yes," Eriri said firmly. "I finished the pages, so I decided… I don't want to keep this vague, half-spoken thing going anymore."
"…Me neither," Shichen said quietly.
Eriri's eyes widened—
—and Shichen kissed her before she could say anything.
At first she froze, seeing only his eyes close up.
Then she closed hers and let herself follow his lead.
When they finally separated, Eriri was breathless and dazed, cheeks burning.
Shichen ruffled her hair. "I'll go take a shower."
"Wait!" Eriri grabbed him quickly.
Shichen looked back, puzzled.
"N-no need," she said, face red. "You're clean. Don't… make it complicated."
Really, she was afraid that if he left for even a few minutes, she'd lose her courage.
Shichen laughed softly. "Didn't expect you to be this impatient."
Eriri couldn't answer—only nodded, tiny and determined.
Shichen leaned in again and kissed her once more, and together they fell back onto the bed.
Outside, the night stretched on.
And in that long night, their relationship finally crossed the line from "almost" to "real."
~~~
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