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“He’ll never take care of you the way I can,” Hao leans down until he is just inches from Hanbin’s face, his warm breath just barely ghosting over Hanbin’s lips as he whispers, “Let me show you, baobei.”
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The first thing Hanbin notices is that Zhang Hao looks just as luminescent under the waning dusk light as he does under the moon. Perhaps it’s just an innate quality of his, perhaps it isn’t the moon at all, but a sort of lunar countenance that he inherently possesses.
And it keeps Hanbin in fervent rapture now, unable to look away even when he knows he should. He hasn’t been able to look away for years.
Or, despite perilous dangers and dark secrets, Zhang Hao and Hanbin realize even among shadows it happens: the coming of love.

