Francesca's POV
I wished the ground would open up and swallow me right after the damn thing rolled out of my bag.
A freaking condom.
Right there, on the polished white marble floor between Li Wei's shoes and the candlelit table, like some twisted prank from the universe.
He blinked down at it, frozen, while I tried to remember how to breathe.
"Oh my god," I whispered under my breath, pressing my hands to my face. "This isn't happening. No, no, no—"
Li Wei finally looked up, his expression unreadable, lips twitching as though he couldn't decide whether to laugh or call security.
"You…" he began slowly, in that low, teasing tone of his. "You dropped something."
I wanted to vanish. "I know! Don't—don't pick it up!"
But of course he did.
He crouched down, long fingers brushing the silver wrapper before holding it up between us, his brow lifting slightly. "You… always carry protection on first dates?"
"I—what? No!" My voice cracked. "It's not—it's not what you think!"
"Relax," he said, still staring at the condom, trying not to grin. "I'm not judging. It's… practical."
Practical? God, someone kill me.
I could feel every waiter watching us from the far end of the restaurant. The candles flickered between us, and the music…some soft jazz…suddenly felt like it was mocking me.
I tried to grab it from him, but he leaned back in his chair like a cat playing with its food.
"Give it back," I hissed.
He tilted his head, eyes glimmering. "Really?."
I glared at him. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," he said, voice calm, teasing.
"Li Wei, give it back!"
He chuckled and finally handed it to me. Our fingers brushed…just for a second…and I felt that stupid warmth crawl up my neck again. I snatched it from him like it burned.
He watched me shove it deep into my bag, his lips twitching. "You sure you didn't mean to bring it?"
"Positive," I said, forcing my eyes to the table. "It was my friend's. Meilin. She must've slipped it in.. she's an idiot."
He laughed quietly. "Ah. So your friend sends you off prepared."
"She's crazy," I muttered. "She thinks everyone is a potential threat to my virginity."
His laughter deepened. "She sounds… protective."
"She's annoying," I corrected. "And if she were here right now, I'd strangle her."
For a moment, he just stared at me. That amused, soft-eyed look of his made my chest tighten a little.
I hated that.
"So," he said finally, leaning forward, elbows on the table, his voice dropping low. "Now that we've survived the… unexpected accessory, tell me something real. About you."
I exhaled, forcing my hands to steady. "Something real?"
"Yes," he said. "Not the polite small talk version you did earlier."
I looked away. The city lights outside the window glowed faintly against the glass, rain starting to fall again.
"I'm from California," I said after a moment. "Mom got transferred here for work. She's with an international firm."
He nodded slowly. "And you? You like it here?"
I laughed quietly. But I didn't respond.
He looked surprised. "You said earlier that you hate China?"
"No, I hate starting over," I said. "New language, new people, new streets that smell like something I don't understand. I hate feeling like I'm always… learning how to breathe again."
He didn't say anything, just watched me with that calm expression that felt too understanding.
I sighed. "We're the only black family on our block. People stare. They try to be polite, but… I see it."
"Yeah," he said softly. "People stare at me too. Different reasons, though."
I raised an eyebrow. "Famous people problems?"
He smiled. "Partially. Mostly rich-kid problems."
"Right. Must be hard having everything."
He gave a small laugh, but his eyes looked distant. "Having everything doesn't mean you can keep it. My family has a rule for everything I do. Who I talk to. Who I date. What I wear. Sometimes I think I own nothing…not even myself."
The words lingered between us.
Something about his tone… I didn't expect that kind of honesty from him.
"You sound lonely," I said quietly.
He shrugged, gaze lowering. "Maybe I am. But that's not sexy on a first date, is it?"
I smiled faintly. "Depends on who's listening."
He met my eyes again, and for a second the teasing stopped. The candles flickered. I looked away first, pretending to sip my drink.
He laughed softly. "You're interesting, Francesca."
"Thanks," I said dryly. "That's my best quality, right after public humiliation."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, really. You're… different."
I rolled my eyes. "You probably say that to all your fans."
"I don't date fans," he said.
"I'm not one," I shot back.
"I know," he said with a grin. "That's why I like talking to you."
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. I hated that I noticed how nice his voice sounded…smooth and deep, like it belonged to someone who knew how to get his way.
We talked for another hour…about school, about music, about how I missed walking barefoot on warm California sand. He told me how Beijing felt like a trap and a dream at the same time.
He was funny in a quiet, unexpected way. Confident but not loud. Every time he laughed, the restaurant seemed smaller.
But I still didn't like him. Not yet. I just… didn't dislike him either. I'm a confused mess.
When the plates were cleared, and we sat there in silence, I finally exhaled. "I can't believe that happened."
"The condom thing?" he asked.
I groaned. "Please don't ever say that word again."
He smirked. "Alright, the 'incident.'"
"You're never going to let me forget it, are you?"
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Hmm… maybe not."
I kicked him under the table, and he laughed, holding up his hands.
"Fine, fine. I'll forget. On one condition."
"What?"
"You go out with me again."
I blinked. "Ain't we like…dating now? So… you'll see again"
"Completely," he said, that slow grin spreading across his face. "I enjoyed tonight. You made me forget who I am for a while."
That line hit harder than I expected.
I looked down, pretending to fix my dress. "We'll see," I said.
"Good enough for me."
After dinner, he insisted on walking me out, though he couldn't take me himself… we don't want any press or paparazzi. His driver was already waiting.
When I stepped outside, the cold night air hit me,but the street smelled like wet concrete. The city looked softer.
"Thank you," I said.
"For what?"
"For not making tonight weirder than it already was."
He smiled faintly. "It was perfect."
"Perfect?" I laughed. "You need to raise your standards."
He didn't answer…just watched me get into the car.
As the driver pulled away, I caught one last glimpse of him through the window, standing under the restaurant lights, hands in his pockets, smiling to himself like he'd seen something funny.
Maybe me. Maybe the whole ridiculous night.
I knew that someday, somehow I'll fall for him.
★★★★
When I got back to campus, I was exhausted. My head was spinning from everything…the talk, the looks, the stupid condom still stuffed somewhere in my bag.
"I'm going to kill Meilin," I muttered under my breath.
The dorm hallway was quiet. I pushed the door open and froze.
At first, I thought I'd walked into the wrong room.
Then I saw the familiar pink blanket…our blanket…and Meilin's hair spilling over the pillow.
And on top of her…some half-naked Chinese guy, his back moving rhythmically, their breaths loud and messy in the dark.
"Oh my—"
My voice caught in m
y throat.
Meilin gasped, her eyes flying open mid-motion.
"Cesca?! Wait—"
I slammed the door shut, my face burning, heart racing.
The image wouldn't leave my mind.
What the actual hell?.