Slow to mature after marriage

After dinner, Bo Yan stood up and began clearing away the dishes.

Mu Siwan's gaze fell on his hands.

The fingers, with their distinct knuckles, gripped the edge of the porcelain plate, their movements unhurried and deliberate. The warm yellow light shone down, illuminating the plain ring with exceptional clarity.

The wedding ring on the ring finger.

It seems that ever since he bought these rings, he has never taken them off.

As for my own, I only wore it on the day I went to the old house, and then I put it away in the closet.

Mu Siwan withdrew her gaze and stood up, leaning on her cane.

"I'll help you—"

Before he could finish speaking, a look from him silenced him.

"Don't make things worse." He didn't even turn his head. "If you fall, I'll have to help you up."

Mu Siwan: "..."

She stood there, watching him clear away the plates, put the knives and forks in the sink, and dump the leftovers into the trash can.

Her movements were neither hurried nor slow, and her outstanding appearance even gave her a touch of elegance.

She suddenly remembered a question.

"Where is Aunt Chen?"

Bo Yan paused for a moment.

"They sent him away."

"Um?"

He turned around, leaned against the counter, and met the woman's questioning gaze.

"I don't want too many people at home for our candlelight dinner."

Mu Siwan said "Oh".

The candlelight still flickered, casting its glow on his profile. She stared at him for a moment, then quickly looked away.

The sound of water coming from the kitchen.

Mu Siwan sat at the dining table and glanced down at her bare ring finger.

Thoughtful.

-

The bathroom door opened, and steam rushed out.

Bo Yan came out, having changed into a black bathrobe. The collar was open, revealing a section of her collarbone and the firm lines of her chest. The belt was loosely tied, outlining her narrow waist. Her hair was still dripping wet, water droplets sliding down the back of her neck and disappearing into the collar of the bathrobe.

Mu Siwan sat in front of the dressing table, having just finished showering and wearing her light blue bathrobe. She was pouring rose essential oil into her palm and slowly rubbing it into the ends of her hair.

The rich scent of roses filled the room.

Bo Yan walked over and stood behind her.

She could see his half-open collar in the mirror, and his gaze as he looked down at the ends of her hair.

His eyes were deep and intense.

If you look closely, you can see that her whole body is engulfed in it.

Mu Siwan hurriedly looked away.

The man chuckled softly, reached out, picked up a little essential oil from her palm with his fingertips, and rubbed it into the ends of her hair.

The movements were very light, with the fingertips occasionally brushing against the back of her neck.

"You changed the essential oil?" he asked.

"Yeah, the old bottle is finished."

"It smells wonderful," he said, his eyes darkening.

Mu Siwan regretted buying such a strong essential oil.

She used to use a gardenia scent, which was light and subtle, and the scent would dissipate quickly after application. But today, for some reason, she inexplicably switched to this rose scent.

The flavor is too strong.

The air was so thick it filled the entire room, so thick it filled his breath, so thick it made her gasp for air when he stared at her.

She looked up and met his deep eyes.

So much so that...

The next second, he grabbed her chin and leaned down to kiss her.

Mu Siwan had already gotten used to his kisses.

I've grown accustomed to him suddenly approaching me anytime, anywhere. I've grown accustomed to him holding the back of my head, enveloping me in his breath, and leaving me breathless from his kisses.

But she hadn't gotten used to it yet, and her heart still beat just as fast each time.

The man's tongue pried open her lips and teeth, hooking and entwining with hers. The rich scent of roses filled their mouths, indistinguishable whether it was from essential oils or their breath.

Mu Siwan was half-weakened by the kiss, and her hands gripped his sleeve tightly.

Men's kissing skills improve very quickly.

She was pulled up and fell backward onto the bed. He pressed down on her, his knees between her legs.

The ties of his robe had come undone at some point, the collar open, revealing his collarbone and a large expanse of skin. His kisses traveled down, landing on his chin, his neck, and his collarbone.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was erratic.

His kisses traveled downwards.

The space between the eyebrows, the tip of the nose, the corners of the lips, and the chin.

Collarbone, shoulders, chest.

Mu Siwan's breathing became completely disordered.

In a daze, she felt him lift her feet up.

Open your eyes.

Bo Yan knelt on the bed and pressed her feet against his chest.

With my soles pressed against that burning hot skin, I could feel his heartbeat, strong and clear, one beat at a time.

She looked at him blankly.

Bo Yan kept his head down, his fingers gently gripping her ankle.

There was a plaster cast there before, which made the area thinner, and there's still a faint mark.

It has a cool touch when it touches the skin.

Mu Siwan looked down.

It was a thin anklet. It was silver, very delicate, and had a small bone-shaped pendant hanging from it.

Bo Yan lowered his eyes and carefully fastened the chain around her ankle.

He fastened it securely and didn't let go.

He gently stroked her ankle with his thumb, staring at the pale pink mark for a long time.

"This is the gift to make amends," he said to Mu Siwan.

What kind of apology gift?

Mu Siwan looked up in confusion.

Meeting the man's gaze, he said, "Because I couldn't be by your side back then."

Because of my naivety and eagerness back then, I wanted to get away from you.

-

Later, the woman's legs wrapped around the man's waist.

The thin anklet swayed with his movements, the bone pendant touching her skin repeatedly, cold, but quickly warmed by his body heat.

Mu Siwan clung to the man's shoulder, her consciousness drifting in and out of focus.

He took her hand, their fingers intertwined.

Then, he slowly turned his gaze to her bare ring finger.

There was nothing there.

Bo Yan lowered his eyes, tightened his grip on her fingers, and pressed down.

A low panting sound fell on her neck.

Suddenly, he slowed down.

Too slow

She opened her eyes blankly and met his gaze.

"Mu Siwan," he called her name, his voice hoarse, "the anklet... won't interfere with your dissection, will it?"

Mu Siwan looked dazed and shook her head impatiently.

He nodded again.

He smiled.

"Yes or no?"

Bo Yan deliberately slowed down, forcing her to answer.

Anklet swaying

"No..." she gasped, "I won't."

He lowered his head and kissed the corner of her lips.

"So," Bo Yan stared at her, emphasizing each word, "will you keep wearing it?"

A man, especially one who has long held a high position and strategized, always has some unknown possessiveness.

Inferior, subtle, hidden behind those nonchalant smiles.

For Mu Siwan, his wife.

Bo Yan hoped that she could bear his mark.

If a ring is inconvenient, then give her something more convenient.

Mu Siwan lowered her eyes and looked at the thin chain on her ankle.

It was silver, thin, and had a small bone hanging from it.

She likes bones.

So she nodded.

"meeting."

Bo Yan stared intently at her, making sure she showed no sign of reluctance.

Then he smiled, lowered his head, and gently kissed the woman's forehead.