The garden was bathed in soft golden light, fairy strands weaving through the trees like constellations caught in silk. Music drifted gently through the air, slow and tender, as if composed for the moment itself.
Han Xin held Xiang Yu close, their bodies swaying in quiet rhythm. His head was lowered, the tip of his nose brushing the curve of Xiang Yu's neck, where the scent of plumeria clung like memory. Their fingers were entwined, palms pressed together as if sealing a vow.
Han Xin's gaze, half-lidded and dazzling, flicked to Xiang Yu from the corner of his eye. Affection shimmered there, unspoken, but unmistakable. Xiang Yu whispered something, voice low and teasing. Han Xin's hand on his waist tightened, pulling him closer, and both their smiles bloomed wider, like flowers unfolding in moonlight.
