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Summary
At first, he thought he had dreamt it, but just then he started to feel the phantom touch of something moving through his hair. In the dark, he let himself imagine it was a strong hand that rested over his head, smoothing his hair back with a gentle caress. Gradually, the sensation felt less like a something and more like a someone. Each brush felt like a breeze, wandering through every strand of his hair, cold but upholding—a crisp gale on a midsummer’s day. He let himself hold onto the touch desperately, and in his mind’s eye imagined it belonged to that person. He visualized the tall silhouette, the sun tanned skin, and those dark, gentle eyes that always betrayed the callousness of his tone.
“Yi Dao…” The name passed his lips morosely, his voice cracking behind a wall of tears.OR... What if the young master and Yi Dao actually got their closure in the dreamscape?
Series
- Part 1 of Till Death Do Us Part