Hot flashes

He opened his mouth, making a hoarse sound from his throat, like a bird being strangled.

Hearing the noise, Xiao Jue put down his pen and walked a few steps to the bedside.

Zhou Heng was curled up there, his face buried in his knees, his shoulders trembling. Xiao Jue squatted down and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Aheng."

Zhou Heng's body was trembling, and the trembling could be felt even through his clothes. It started from his spine and spread down to his limbs, even his fingertips were shaking.

Xiao Jue tightened his grip slightly, and with his other hand, he supported his chin and gently lifted it up.

His face was as white as paper, his lips were bloodless, his eyes were red, and his eyelashes were damp.

"Aheng," Xiao Jue called again. His voice was lower than before, and he placed his palm on Aheng's cheek, his thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. "Look at me."

Zhou Heng's pupils slowly narrowed, his gaze settling on his face.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Xiao Jue asked softly, his other hand resting on his back, stroking it gently.

Zhou Heng didn't speak. He suddenly reached out and gently pressed his fingers between Xiao Jue's eyebrows.

"Don't frown." The voice was so soft it sounded like someone was talking in their sleep.

Xiao Jue paused for a moment, then took his hand and touched it to his lips. "I won't wrinkle."

He lowered Zhou Heng's hand and held it in his own palm.

The hand was icy cold, with distinct knuckles, and the fingers were a size thinner than his own, fitting perfectly in his palm. "Had a nightmare?" he asked again.

Zhou Heng's lips moved, as if he wanted to squeeze out some words from his throat, but halfway through, it was as if something was choking him.

His face flushed red, the veins on his forehead bulged, and his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Xiao Jue's expression changed. "Aheng?" Zhou Heng opened his mouth, making a hoarse sound in his throat, as if something was stuck there, unable to go up or down.

His eyes were wide open, their rims red as if about to bleed, and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. He tried desperately to say something, but the words broke off at the last second, becoming a muffled, indistinct murmur, incomprehensible to anyone who heard them.

Xiao Jue picked him up and held him in his arms. Zhou Heng buried his face in the crook of his neck, his body still trembling.

Xiao Jue placed his hand on his back and patted him gently, one pat at a time.

"I'm not saying anything more." Xiao Jue's voice came from above. Zhou Heng's hand gripped his collar so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His mouth was open, and broken breaths were still coming from his throat, as if all the exits were blocked and he could only squeeze out from the gaps.

Xiao Jue lowered his head, his lips touching the top of his head. "I'm not saying anything more," he said again.

Zhou Heng's body slowly went limp, and the fingers that were gripping his clothes loosened. Tears were still flowing, soaking a large patch of Xiao Jue's clothes on his shoulder.

Xiao Jue held him, saying nothing more.

A breeze picked up outside the window, making the windowpanes creak and groan. The candlelight flickered, casting the two shadows onto the wall, overlapping and indistinguishable.

Zhou Heng's breathing gradually calmed down. The broken breaths disappeared, leaving only occasional sobs, muffled in Xiao Jue's chest, one after another.

Xiao Jue placed his hand on the top of his head and gently rubbed it. "It's alright."

Zhou Heng closed his eyes. Tears welled up again, streaming down his cheeks and into his hair.

Xiao Jue held Zhou Heng, leaning against the couch. The candlelight dimmed, and a thick layer of wax dripped from it. A bird outside the window chirped once, then fell silent again.

"Aheng," his voice was very soft, "don't be afraid, it's alright now."

The next day, after Xiao Jue finished reviewing the memorials, he returned to his bedchamber and pushed open the door. Zhou Heng was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a book in his hand, but looking elsewhere.

Hearing the door open, he looked up, a slight smile appearing on his face. "You're back?" Xiao Jue hummed in response and walked over.

Zhou Heng put down the book and followed behind him. Xiao Jue changed his clothes, turned around, and saw Zhou Heng still standing half a step behind him.

He smiled and reached out to ruffle Zhou Heng's hair. "What did you do today?" Zhou Heng thought for a moment and said he read for a while and then took a walk in the Imperial Garden.

Xiao Jue listened, nodded, and took his hand, leading him to the table.

Xiao Jue didn't initially think anything was wrong. Zhou Heng had always been clingy to him. It had been like this since those years in the Northern Border; wherever he was, Zhou Heng was there too.

After he ascended the throne, Zhou Heng moved out of the palace, and both of them suffered during that period.

It's normal for someone to be a little clingy after you've finally managed to coax them back.

But gradually Xiao Jue realized something was wrong. After he finished reviewing the memorials and returned to his bedchamber, Zhou Heng was still awake.

He lay on the couch with his eyes closed, but Xiao Jue knew he wasn't asleep. Xiao Jue lay down beside him, and Zhou Heng turned over, draping his arm over Xiao Jue's waist and pressing his face against his chest.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Xiao Jue asked, running his fingers through his hair and gently rubbing it.

Zhou Heng responded listlessly, "I'll wait for you."

Xiao Jue felt that uneasy feeling resurface. He lowered his head and placed a kiss on Zhou Heng's hair. "Sleep."

Zhou Heng hummed in response, but his fingers, still gripping his clothes, did not loosen.

Xiao Jue's hand landed on his back, stroking it gently. After a long time, his breathing gradually became long and even.