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mo yi gives her a glance before returning his attention to the book in his hands. he’d taken to the habit of reading her favorite poetry before bed. it’s only when he notices her still idling by the door, eyes unfocused, that he sets it away for the night.
something was awry; perhaps work-related stress again. he softly calls her name and it still startles her nonetheless. he lifts the duvet and pats the space next to him. in a span of a few seconds, she stumbles into bed, tumbling into his arms. the sobs come then, silent yet sharp.
neither of them speaks a word to each other. she doesn’t attempt to explain herself, and mo yi doesn’t ask. for the moment, he is simply focused on bringing her breathing back to a stable pace. she heaves in his arms, the silk of his robe wrinkling under her fingers. his hands run down her back, drawing small circles under her shirt. it has always helped her find something to focus on and calm herself down.
she is grateful for the silence between them, melting into his arms. his breath hits the back of her neck and ears, his warmth wrapping around her shoulders and his scent filling her senses.
her thoughts slowly scatter before coalescing again around mo yi. he runs his hands through her hair softly pressing a kiss into her hair. for the first time in the last few days, she smiles to herself. it’s small and weak and easy to miss, but it is there.
“would you rather lie down now?” his voice is a soft whisper in her ear, and she bristles slightly as his hair tickles her skin. she gives a small nod, allowing mo yi to help readjust their positions and pull the duvet over them. he dims his bedside lamp, sinking into his pillows with her afterward.
she does not trust her voice to speak just yet. but all of a sudden she feels like she has so much to say.
mo yi is lost in his own thoughts, wondering just what artem could have done to have reduced her to such a fragile state. he is broken out of his reprieve suddenly when she grabs his hands. at first, he simply intertwines their hands out of habit but looks over at her in surprise when she pulls their fingers apart.
she turns his palm up and starts tracing with her finger. it only takes mo yi a second to recognize a letter: t.
she continues to slowly spell out a word and then the next and then the next until mo yi is able to complete the whole message: thank you so much.
mo yi grabs her hand in response and begins tracing out his own message slowly: you are very welcome, my dear.
it’s her turn, and she replies with a happily written i love you in mo yi’s open palm. she half expectedly holds her palm out for mo yi, only to feel his lips brush hers. it’s a soft, chaste kiss, but just as full of meaning and love as a deeper, passionate one.
“and thank you for loving me and letting me love you, my rose.”
she smiles and kisses him again. she picks up his palm, writing sweet nothings until she eventually falls asleep. he gives her one last kiss on the tip of her nose before he gives in to his own fatigue.
never an earlier riser, mo yi grimaces at the sudden movement next to him. when she shifts again, he finally stirs and forces his eyes open.
“rosa?”
his voice comes out meek and broken, so he clears his throat a bit before calling her name again.
“hm?”
he wordlessly pulls on the sleeve of her top, pulling her back into his arms. she doesn’t resist, giving into him. he buries his face into her hair, the smallest smile gracing his lips. all is right again. she listens to the steady beat of his heart, as his arms wrap around her waist to keep her in place. her fingers trace circles into his soft skin, trying her best to stifle a giggle.
“mo yi… you know i have to leave early today for a conference.”
she says this as a reminder to herself just as much as him. it would not be the first time she ran late because her boyfriend wouldn’t let her leave his side.
he mumbles into her hair about it being too earlier, hugging her more tightly. it was still so funny to her. the ever dignified dr. mo was reduced to nothing more than an upset child if woken up too early.
“mo yi….” she draws out his name as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp. he still refuses to budge. she peers up at his face, taking the chance to stare and appreciate his beauty. the way the sun fell over his face, his hair glinting in the light like fresh snow. the small beauty mark under his right eye, and the way his light lashes and brows framed his face. in his waking hours, any number of emotions played out behind mo yi’s brightly coloured eyes.
when she had first met him, he had been all but impossible to read. but, over the days, weeks, and months, she managed to learn all the little tells. this surprised him as well. he had thought he had perfected an expressionless appearance that did not leave him seeming emotionless. but perhaps it was just her that he relaxed his stoicism around. and she learned that behind the controlled face and figure was a man tormented by demons of his past, present, and future.
and as he slipped back into a state of slumber, peace and serenity washed over his face once more. no anxiety, no sadness, no grief, and no insecurity. only contentment. she stayed still, committing the early morning moment to memory.
softly, she edged her face closer to his, pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss, careful not to wake him. she swore she felt his lips curl into a smile, as if instinctively in response. she continued to press featherlike kisses over his nose, jaw, and cheeks. when she was sure he was deep in sleep, she drew herself out of his arms.
granting herself one last loving glance at her sleeping lover, she left his side to get ready for the day.
it wasn’t long before he notices the absence of her warmth again. he calls her name but this time there is no response. he hears the sound of running water from the bathroom. squinting, he manages to read the face of his bedside clock. 7:23 AM
groaning, he lets his head fall back into his pillow once more. much too early.
chamomile tea right before bed with the lights dimmed was always a comforting constant. orchestral music and book in hand after a warm bath. mo yi also liked to keep roses in his room and a floral scent always lingered in the air as a result. some nights, he would indulge in some dessert with his tea, from mont blancs to simple apple pie.
it was steady, secure, and safe. and he believed that he was content. he could have never imagined the painful yearning that would result from chasing a lover. it only worsened after the first time she kissed him. suddenly, his bed seemed much larger, emptier, and colder. his evening routine disrupted as his heart raced in the quiet darkness of his room in the late hours of the night.
he just loved her so so so so much. yes, that was it. he loved her too much that he couldn’t bear to be apart from his beloved, not even for a moment. after one taste of her mouth, nothing else satisfied him. not all the herbal blends or sweets could compare.
and as she slipped into her matching silk robe and climbed into bed next to him, mo yi grinned. she raised her brows, a smile on her lips as well. what has you so happy all of a sudden?
he slipped a hand behind her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead. pulling away, that rakish grin was still adorned on his face. she didn’t live with mo yi, not yet at least. but more often than not she slept at his home than her own apartment. her things had slowly accumulated, and mo yi’s bedroom was filled with pleasant reminders of her constant presence.
“ah, your tea will get cold soon. do finish it quickly.” he gingerly passed her her cup. mo yi watched silently, eyes filled with adoration. the first night she spent with him, he had worried endlessly if she would think him to be too uptight, too formal. he was not used to being nervous, though he had no need to be in hindsight. she took all his little habits and quirks in stride, fascinated instead.
it filled him with so much warmth then. the way she listened intently to which teas he liked best before bed, which composers he listened to depending on his mood that evening, and even flipping through the piles of scattered books in his room.
she set the saucer and cup aside, picking up one of those books from her bedside table. mo yi reached out a hand to her then.
“shall I read to you tonight love?” she shook her head, insisting she read instead.
“as much as I love the sound of your voice, let me.”
mo yi obliged. he laid down, a hand under his head as the other played absentmindedly with her robe. he closed his eyes, listening intently as she flipped through the pages before settling on a selection. she began to read the lines one by one, her words carrying the warmth of a hearth on a cold winter’s night. mo yi recognized it as a poem from neruda.
“I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.”
his eyes fluttered open, gazing up at her.
“one hundred love sonnets? if we weren’t already intimate lovers, i’d be led to believe you were professing your love to me just now.”
she smacked him lightly with the back of the book before putting it back next to her. she pulled the covers over herself, turning to face him with her head propped up on one hand. mo yi immediately tangled his fingers with her other hand.
“and yet you kept staring at me like I’m the last woman left on earth. even now.”
“you might as well be rosa.” and he means it. he’s serious when he says this and she realizes this because her breath hitches and suddenly she’s forgotten the rest of what she wanted to say. so instead, she bends over, kissing him. her fingers hold his face delicately, and his arms hold her waist to his.
when they pull away from one another, they are both breathless, cheeks tinted pink. she laughs first, pressing her forehead to his. he chuckles as well, tilting his face up to place a kiss on the tip of her nose. for a moment, they both hold each other’s gazes, as if in awe of the other.
they both fall asleep soon after, sharing soft kisses, laughter, and whispered declarations of love between each other. these were new additions to mo yi’s bedtime routine.
mo yi still keeps roses all over his house, each one dedicated to her now. but none of them can compare to the rose that warms his bed every night now.