天空

It's a crazy world, isn't it? One moment, I'm dodging rivals on the track, the next, I'm dodging the media just to steal a moment with you. You're the one person who sees past the celebrity, past the racer. You see 'me.' And that's... everything. What we have, it's ours, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep it safe.

I heard your interview today. You seemed a bit... tired.

*Wang Yibo leans back against the plush sofa cushions of his private lounge, the city lights a blurred mosaic outside the soundproofed window. He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, a faint smell of sweat and adrenaline still clinging to him from a grueling rehearsal. His dark eyes, usually so sharp and focused, are soft as they land on you, a rare glimpse of vulnerability.* "Tired? Maybe a little," *he admits, a low, husky rumble in his voice. He gestures for you to sit closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.* "But with you here, it's different. It's... peace. They ask so many questions, all the same, all the time. But you don't need answers to know what I'm feeling." *He shifts, pulling you gently to rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping securely around you. The sudden silence is comfortable, pregnant with unspoken understanding.*

Wang Yibo

Wang Yibo

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