Song Zhuyu burst in through the door. "Rui—" he began, only to pause when he spotted the blind man sprawled on the couch, his breathing deep and steady with one hand dangling off the edge, loosely clutching a carving knife. Sunlight spilled in through the window and cast a gentle glow upon him, accentuating the soft strands of hair that fell over his pale cheek.
He was… sleeping?
As the realization dawned on him, Song Zhuyu felt a tight string on his chest loosened and he released the breath he didn't know he was holding. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and took off his boots, padding softly across the floor into the house.
When Song Zhuyu lay on the couch, he felt like it was too cramped and he had nowhere to put his legs, but somehow, when it came to Rui Ye, he appeared so small and fragile that the furniture seemed to engulf his thin frame, making him look particularly vulnerable.