Falling Deeper

Qing Zhao’s lips were warm, firm, but hesitant—like he was giving in to something he had been resisting for far too long. My heart pounded in my chest as I leaned into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, afraid that if I let go, he would disappear.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening against the back of my neck, drawing me closer. I shivered as his other hand ghosted down my arm before settling at my waist, holding me as if he wasn’t sure if he should. As if he was afraid of breaking something fragile.

But there was nothing fragile about what was happening between us.

The moment felt endless, the air between us thick with unspoken words, unsaid confessions. But just as suddenly as it began, Qing Zhao pulled back.

His breathing was uneven, his dark eyes clouded with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “We shouldn’t,” he murmured, though he didn’t move away.

I swallowed hard. “Why not?”

He let out a quiet chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Because I’m not the kind of person you should get involved with.”

I shook my head. “You keep saying that, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

His fingers tightened at my waist for a brief second before he sighed and pulled away completely. The warmth of his touch disappeared, leaving behind an unbearable cold.

“You don’t understand,” he said, running a hand through his hair, looking almost… frustrated.

I reached for his wrist before he could move further away. “Then help me understand.”

He stared at me for a long time, his expression unreadable.

Then, finally, he spoke. “I kill people.”

The words hung between us like a heavy weight.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move. I just met his gaze and said, “I know.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that response.

I squeezed his wrist. “I know who you are, Qing Zhao. I’ve known since that night in the alley. And I still—” I hesitated, my throat tightening. “I still want to be here.”

Qing Zhao exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching against mine. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But so are you for kissing me back.”

His expression flickered, something soft passing through his features before he schooled them into his usual unreadable mask. He shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re reckless,” he murmured.

I smirked. “You like it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Maybe I do.”

And just like that, the tension between us shifted. He was still dangerous, still wrapped in a world I didn’t belong to. But in this moment, I wasn’t afraid.

---

The next few weeks passed in a blur of late-night training sessions, quiet conversations in the dim light of his apartment, and stolen moments where our hands brushed, our gazes lingered just a second too long.

Qing Zhao was careful. He never kissed me again, never crossed that invisible line. But I could feel it—the way his eyes followed me when he thought I wasn’t looking, the way his grip lingered whenever he corrected my stance.

And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

One evening, after an exhausting training session, I collapsed onto the couch in his apartment, sighing dramatically. “I think you enjoy torturing me.”

Qing Zhao smirked as he tossed me a water bottle. “You’re getting better.”

“That’s not a denial.”

He chuckled, but before he could respond, his phone buzzed on the table. The lighthearted atmosphere vanished instantly.

His expression darkened as he checked the screen.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood, grabbing his jacket. “Stay here.”

I frowned. “Qing Zhao—”

His gaze flicked to me, something protective—almost possessive—in his eyes. “I mean it. Don’t follow me.”

But that only made me more determined to do exactly that.

---

I shouldn’t have followed him.

I knew that.

And yet, here I was, crouched behind a stack of shipping crates at the edge of an abandoned warehouse, watching as Qing Zhao stood in front of three men dressed in dark suits.

I couldn’t hear everything, but I caught pieces of the conversation.

“…too soft lately, Qing Zhao.”

“…distracted.”

“…weakness will get you killed.”

A slow chill crept down my spine.

Then, one of the men said something that made my blood freeze.

“Does this have something to do with that boy you’ve been keeping close?”

I held my breath.

Qing Zhao didn’t react right away. Then, in a voice as sharp as a blade, he said, “He’s none of your concern.”

The man laughed. “Oh, but he is. Word spreads fast. Some people are wondering if you’re getting too attached.”

I swallowed hard.

Qing Zhao took a slow step forward. “If anyone lays a hand on him…” He trailed off, but the promise in his voice was clear.

The man smirked. “Now that sounds like an attachment.”

A gun clicked.

I barely had time to react before Qing Zhao moved.

It was like watching something out of a movie. In a single swift motion, he grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it sharply. The gun clattered to the ground. Before the others could react, he struck—silent, precise. Within seconds, two men were groaning on the ground, clutching their injuries.

The last man standing raised his hands in surrender, his face pale. “Alright, alright. Message received.”

Qing Zhao’s voice was deadly calm. “Tell them he’s off-limits.”

I barely had time to duck back behind the crates as the men retreated, leaving Qing Zhao standing there alone, his back to me.

My heart pounded.

I had known he was dangerous. But seeing it firsthand was different.

And yet… I wasn’t scared.

I was in awe.

And maybe, just maybe, I was falling for him even more.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***