The sudden explosion of relieved sobbing in her consciousness made her head throb. Little Firefly's emotions crashed through their bond like waves breaking against rocks.
I'm ok, please don't cry...Li Hua coaxed, pressing her fingers against her temples. Massive headache.
Suddenly, she felt warm calloused hands press against her forehead. A cooling sensation spread from the point of contact, washing away the pain like tide erasing footprints from sand. The touch was gentle but sure, carrying years of practice in its certainty.
She turned her head, already knowing who she would find but her breath still caught at the sight. Mo Xing sat beside her bed, shadows under his eyes suggesting he hadn't left for quite some time. His usual playful smile was absent, replaced by something more genuine—relief, concern, and something else she wasn't ready to name mixing in his golden gaze.
"Welcome back, Little Tempest," he murmured, his fingers still cool against her skin.
