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It had been nearly a week.
Six long, dragging days since Lin Yue began her job hunt.
But every morning came with disappointment, and every evening ended in hopelessness.
It wasn't for lack of trying—she woke up early, dressed neatly, and walked tirelessly around the city.
Yet, the answer was always the same: "We're not hiring," or "We need experience," or the most frustrating of all, "Sorry, the position was just filled."
Now, sitting alone on the cold floor of their small apartment, she stared blankly ahead.
The orange sunset glowed faintly through the thin curtains, casting shadows across her face.
She felt heavy. Like her soul was wrapped in thick chains of failure and helplessness.
Though Ah Yan tried his best to comfort her, she could see it too— feel it too—they were struggling.
His job barely covered their rent, let alone food and bills.
She felt like a burden.
Every smile she gave him felt like a lie.
Every day she failed to contribute chipped away at her self-worth.
'Am I really this useless...?' she thought bitterly, her eyes growing misty.
A deep, aching part of her wanted to scream.
But instead, she stood up slowly and grabbed her wallet.
Just one drink.
Only this once.
Only this time.
The last time.
She swore to herself.
Minutes later, she returned with a small plastic bag full of beer cans.
Ten of them.
Or maybe more.
She sat on the floor again, cracked one open, and began drinking.
The bitterness burned her throat, but the numbness was comforting.
As the alcohol settled into her veins, so did the questions.
Is this my fate? Always falling? Always being abandoned?
Why can't I be stronger? Like those women on TV who rise above their hardships?
She was so lost in thought, she didn't hear the door unlock.
Ah Yan stepped inside, removing his shoes quietly. He instantly smelled the alcohol—again.
His chest tightened as he walked towards her.
"Yueyue..."
She looked up slowly, her eyes glassy, her cheeks flushed. "Ah Yan... Come... Sit... Drink with me."
She handed him a can, her smile more heartbreaking than ever.
He hesitated.
His instincts screamed to scold her, to take the alcohol away.
But then he saw the pain beneath her eyes.
The crushed hope.
The fragility.
He sat beside her and took the can from her hand deep in thoughts too.
"I asked around at work today," he mumbled, popping the can open. "Still the same thing. They need ID."
Where would he get an ID when he didn't know himself.
When he didn't know where he came from.
They drank together in silence.
Their sorrow filled the room more than words could.
Two broken hearts, finding temporary comfort in the buzz of numbness and the warmth of each other's presence.
---
After some time, she turned to him slowly.
Her hand reached out to touch his cheek. Her fingers were soft and slightly cold.
"You know... I've always loved you. I... I don't know since when," she whispered, her voice low and raw. "But I didn't want to burden you...You've already done so much for me."
Ah Yan's eyes flickered.
His heart beat louder in his ears.
He placed his hand gently over hers, holding it against his cheek.
His other hand slid around her waist.
"Yueyue... I love you too," he murmured.
His voice cracked with emotion. "But I have nothing. I don't even know who I am. I don't want you tied to someone who can't give you a future."
She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "You already gave me a future. Every day you stayed with me... you comforted me... That was enough."
Her lips quivered.
Without another word, she leaned in and kissed him.
This time, he didn't hesitate.
He didn't push her away.
Their lips met in a fiery, passionate embrace, raw with emotion.
Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer.
His fingers tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss.
They kissed like they were trying to memorize each other.
Like the world outside didn't matter anymore.
She shifted, straddling his lap, her hands clutching his shirt tightly.
He leaned back, pulling her with him, their breath mingling, hearts racing.
They undressed each other slowly, fumbling through kisses and whispers.
There was no lust-driven urgency, only a deep ache to be close—to feel something real in a world that had been so cruel.
From the floor to the sofa, and finally into the quiet haven of his room, they made love like they were trying to piece their broken selves back together.
For a moment, there was no past.
No pain.
Only warmth.
Only each other.
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