When Boundaries Blur

Yichen had planned to keep his distance.

He had convinced himself that the previous night was just a momentary lapse—an unfortunate circumstance caused by the storm, the confined space, and her presence.

By morning, everything would return to normal.

But fate clearly had other plans.

~~

When Yichen awoke, the storm had passed, but a new problem had taken its place.

Ruolan was still asleep, curled up in the blankets, her hair a soft, tousled mess.

She looked… peaceful. Too peaceful.

Until—

A small whimper. A furrow of her brows. Then she shifted, curling even tighter into herself.

Something was wrong.

Yichen's gaze sharpened. "Ruolan?"

No response.

He stepped closer, observing her pale complexion, the unnatural redness in her cheeks. Fever.

A sharp exhale.

Of course.

She had spent all of yesterday running around in the cold, then got caught in the rain. It was inevitable.

~~

The logical thing to do was to call the hotel staff and have them handle it.

But instead, Yichen found himself reaching out, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead.

She was burning up.

Ruolan stirred slightly at the touch, eyes fluttering open in a daze.

"Mm…?" Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. She looked up at him, still half-asleep.

Then.

She smiled.

Soft. Bare. Vulnerable.

And Yichen completely froze.

It was just a fever-induced haze. She probably didn't even know what she was doing.

But that single unfiltered moment—her warm, drowsy gaze, her soft murmur of his name—sent a strange, unwanted sensation creeping into his chest.

He forced himself to pull back, clearing his throat. "You're sick."

Ruolan blinked at him, still clearly disoriented.

He exhaled sharply before grabbing the hotel phone. "Stay put. I'll call for—"

A weak tug on his sleeve.

He stilled.

Ruolan was half-asleep, barely aware of what she was doing, but her fingers curled into his sleeve, holding on with feeble insistence.

"Don't…" she whispered. "Too tired."

Yichen's entire body went rigid.

For a moment, he didn't know what irritated him more—her fragile state, or the way she was so comfortable around him without realizing the effect it had.

He let out a slow, controlled breath.

Fine.

Instead of calling the hotel, he walked over to the small bar area in the suite and poured a glass of warm water.

"Drink." His voice was clipped, businesslike.

Ruolan barely processed his words, but when he helped her sit up, she obediently took a sip.

The action was so natural, so domestic, that Yichen had to mentally check himself.

What the hell was he doing?

This was not his responsibility.

And yet, when she curled back into the blankets, looking impossibly small and fragile, he stayed.

~~

For the next hour, he worked from the room, glancing at her every few minutes despite himself.

The hotel doctor eventually arrived, confirming it was just a mild fever. Nothing serious.

Still, Yichen found himself checking on her condition more often than necessary.

And then—

"Yichen…"

His head snapped up.

Ruolan was still asleep, her breathing soft, her fevered mind clearly wandering.

But she had just said his name. In her sleep. This was the first time she was addressing him so casually. She usually called him 'President Li' but now, hearing her soft voice murmur his name so delicately stirred up something inside him and he didn't want to admit it.

And for some reason…

It unsettled him more than anything else.