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“We’re not having a bonfire in the forest.”
The apprentice witches wilt under the sharpness of Fang Shiqian’s words. They’ve all been looking forward to doing something new for Litha, and Gao Yingjie knows Liu Xiaobie especially has been looking forward to the prospect of a bonfire. He’s been enamored with the idea ever since Qiao Yifan and Lu Hanwen had explained their communities’ Litha traditions.
Liu Xiaobie kicks at a pebble on the ground before feebly raising his head in protest. “Come on, please?” he whines. “The sea monks will be here, and they’ll help us out if anything goes wrong.”
“–Not that anything will go wrong,” Gao Yingjie quickly cuts in. It’s better not to give Fang Shiqian yet another reason to deny them.
Fang Shiqian grumbles out an, absolutely not, and Gao Yingjie sighs. Honestly, Gao Yingjie can see both sides of the bonfire dilemma. On the one hand, his senior is right, starting a fire in the forest is against the coven’s rules and probably not the smartest idea even if they do take precautions. On the other hand, though; this will be the first Alliance community Litha celebration and, as Lu Hanwen had put it, not having a bonfire would be ‘really, really lame.’
Gao Yingjie’s stomach churns. He really doesn’t want Qiao Yifan to think their celebration is lame.
“Everyone—the fairies, werewolves, sea monks and even the mundanes— have been celebrating Litha with a bonfire for centuries,” Gao Yingjie adds. “There’s never been an accident, and it will make everyone feel more at home if we let them bring some of their traditions here.”
“No. Bonfire.” Fang Shiqian says, the crease between his brows deepening.
Just as Gao Yingjie is about to concede defeat, he spots Wang Jiexi approaching. Finally a voice of reason! Fang Shiqian is as stubborn as an invasive weed, but Wang Jiexi would at least hear them out.
But, before Gao Yingjie and the other apprentices have a chance to plead their case, Wang Jiexi is already opening his mouth and saying, “Shiqian is right. No bonfire.”
Gao Yingjie and the other apprentices let out a collective groan, and even Spiral’s head droops from their spot on Gao Yingjie’s shoulder.
“It’s true that we need to be accommodating towards our guests, but in turn they need to respect our customs and traditions as well. Part of the point of these group celebrations is so we can all learn to understand one another a little better. I’m sure everyone will have a great time even if we do things differently than they’re used to,” Wang Jiexi says with finality.
Everything Wang Jiexi is saying sounds so reasonable that Gao Yingjie can’t even be mad. He knows his senior is right, but he’d really been hoping to make this Litha special for Qiao Yifan. It will be their first Litha together, and the last thing Gao Yingjie wants is for Qiao Yifan to be disappointed.
“But,” Wang Jiexi continues, and everyone perks right up. “Xu Bin and I have been tinkering with spells and we’ve nearly come up with a way to magic a bonfire illusion. No heat or smoke will come off of it, but that shouldn’t be an issue anyway since it’s summer.”
“A magical bonfire!?” Liu Fei squeals. “That’s wicked cool!”
Liu Xiaobie flashes a grin in Gao Yingjie’s direction, and even Fang Shiqian looks pleasantly surprised.
Perhaps this year’s Litha won’t be so lame after all.
***
Sunny spring afternoons turn from pleasantly warm to sweltering, and before Gao Yingjie knows it, it’s the morning of the forest’s Litha celebration. He sits with Liu Xiaobie and Spiral under the shade of Kind Tree’s branches, grass tickling at the line below the hem of his shorts as they prepare an array of flowers for later.
Whereas fairies and werewolves might say it’s not Litha without a bonfire, from a witch’s perspective, Litha wouldn’t be complete without flower crowns. They start their preparations early, planting the seeds for the year’s flower crowns at the beginning of spring. Traditionally, all of the flowers had to be grown naturally, but nowadays it’s common for magical flowers to be woven in with the homegrown ones. It allows for more versatility since that way the witches can include some out of season flowers in their crowns.
Wang Jiexi has instructed them to prepare enough flowers for their guests to weave a crown if they’d like. Some of the guests have volunteered to bring flowers from their own regions, too; so there will certainly be a colorful variety of flowers at tonight’s celebration.
Gao Yingjie is looking forward to making flower crowns with everyone, but his mind keeps wandering to a flower crown for one guest in particular. He feeds some stray bits of flowers to Spiral as he lets himself daydream, imagining showing Qiao Yifan the ropes as they weave flower crowns together. He thinks about what type of flower would look best in Qiao Yifan’s pretty wisteria-colored hair. Perhaps a bright orange nasturtium? Or maybe something more understated, like the soft white yarrow crowns Fang Shiqian and Wang Jiexi make for each other yearly...
Gao Yingjie snaps to attention when he feels the tickle of something brush against his cheek. Liu Xiaobie snickers, twirling a lavender stalk in his hand.
“You thinking about which flowers you’re going to use for Yifan’s crown?” Liu Xiaobie asks, still snickering.
Gao Yingjie colors.
In witch culture, weaving a flower crown for another person means that you have romantic feelings for them; it’s a way of saying you want to intertwine your lives and grow together. There are lots of old stories about blushing young witches trading flower crowns on Litha. Rumor even has it that a young Wang Jiexi giving a young Fang Shiqian a crown of yarrow was the seedling that allowed their love to bloom for years to come.
Gao Yingjie does have feelings for Qiao Yifan, big feelings, and admittedly he’s been dreaming about weaving a flower crown for Qiao Yifan for quite some time. Gao Yingjie has felt a special spark ever since they’d first locked eyes, and he thinks, from Qiao Yifan’s dorky poems and letters; from the way that Qiao Yifan’s entire demeanor brightens when they meet by the tree spirit, that Qiao Yifan feels something too.
They’re clearly more than just friends, but they’ve never put a name to what they are. This electric feeling has simply hung brightly, beautifully— and a little intimidatingly — between them.
Gao Yingjie always means to say something, he always means to tell Qiao Yifan everything. Whenever he opens his mouth, though, his feelings get caught in his throat and he freezes up.
A small, brave part of Gao Yingjie hopes crafting the flower crown will give him the courage he needs to make his feelings known.
“Maybe,” Gao Yingjie answers, swatting Liu Xiaobie’s hand away from his face. This only makes Liu Xiaobie grin even more mercilessly. He scoots in closer, nudging their shoulders together with a teasing, “Oooh.”
Gao Yingjie rolls his eyes. Of all people, Liu Xiaobie has no room to be teasing him about this.
“Are you going to make one for Lu Hanwen then?” Gao Yingjie says, innocently blinking his eyes.
A crimson blush spreads to Liu Xiaobie’s cheeks as he sputters out a, “W-what!?”
Gao Yingjie seizes the opportunity to snatch the lavender stalk out of Liu Xiaobie’s hand. “This would look lovely in his hair, don't you think?” Gao Yingjie giggles as he taps Liu Xiaobie’s nose with the lavender.
Liu Xiaobie sighs and picks up another lavender stalk from their pile of flowers. He runs his fingers over the delicate petals, looking deep in contemplation. After a brief moment of silence, Liu Xiaobie glances up at Gao Yingjie, his cheeks still tinged with pink as he asks, “You don’t think...lavender’s too basic? It’s Hanwen. He’d probably like something more flashy, right?”
“No, no I don’t think it’s too basic!” Gao Yingjie drops his teasing smile and the lavender stalk as he reassures his friend. “Lavender is traditional and elegant, and besides, the flower crown is something you're making for him so he’s going to love it no matter what.”
“Really?”
“Really! But if you’re worried about it, you could add a colorful statement flower— maybe some dahlias or orchids?”
“Okay,” Liu Xiaobie says slowly, “but if I make a flower crown for Hanwen you have to make one for Yifan, deal?”
Liu Xiaobie sets the lavender stalk on his lap and holds out a hand towards Gao Yingjie, pinky first. Gao Yingjie grins and interlinks their pinkies.
“Deal!”
***
“How? How is the bonfire purple?” Lu Hanwen shouts. He hooks a tentacle under Liu Xiaobie’s elbow, tugging on his arm.
The fire crackles like a real one would, and with a sputter and pop the flames turn from purple to bright green.
“Woah!” Lu Hanwen shouts even louder. “How'd it do that? Tell me! How? How?”
“Oh, just a little magic,” Liu Xiaobie replies with a wave of his hand. He’s trying to be casual about it, Gao Yingjie thinks, but he’s smiling far too much, clearly very pleased with the bonfire— and Lu Hanwen’s reaction to it.
As Lu Hanwen continues to bounce and shout with glee, Gao Yingjie’s eyes search the ever growing crowd of guests. He spots An Wenyi, Lu Hanwen’s dads, and a few other familiar faces, but not the person he’s most looking forward to seeing.
The guests continue to filter in, and the air becomes thick with the lively buzz of their chatter and laughter. It’s the most visitors the forest has seen in half a century, and Gao Yingjie can hardly hear his own thoughts — or the person approaching him from behind — over the noise.
“That’s an awesome bonfire!”
Gao Yingjie jumps at the unexpected voice, and swivels around to find Qiao Yifan standing behind him.
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Qiao Yifan quickly apologizes, and Gao Yingjie’s insides go soft at the sight of him. Qiao Yifan is radiant, like summer’s cheerful warmth in human form, and Gao Yingjie happily soaks up his rays.
Like usual, Qiao Yifan has come prepared with a snack for Spiral, and as Qiao Yifan busies himself with feeding pieces of cut fruit to the snail perched on Gao Yingjie’s shoulder, Gao Yingjie takes the opportunity to gaze at him openly and longingly. He pretends not to see the kissy faces Liu Xiaobie is making at him— still with Lu Hanwen clinging to his arm like lichen— from behind Qiao Yifan.
Gao Yingjie notes the basket of flowers in Qiao Yifan’s other hand: bright red gum tree blossoms from the Void plains just south of Qiao Yifan’s village. Gao Yingjie isn’t very familiar with the Void plains or its flora, but he knows that Qiao Yifan has just started an apprenticeship with one of the ghost blades there. The gum tree flowers are intriguing and unlike the flowers Gao Yingjie typically sees in the forest. He wonders if Qiao Yifan is planning on using them to make a flower crown. He wonders, even more indulgently, if Qiao Yifan is planning on making a flower crown for him.
The brush of a hand along his cheeks pulls Gao Yingjie from his reverie. “You’re a little warm.” Qiao Yifan frowns, looping the basket of flowers around his arm as he fusses with Gao Yingjie’s witch hat. “Let’s get you out of the sun.”
Gao Yingjie feels himself blushing even harder, and he shoots Liu Xiaobie a sharp look when he hears his fellow witch emit a snort.
“We’re going to go sit by the water if you guys want to join us,” Lu Hanwen says, waving them over with a tentacle. “My dads are worried about my skin drying out if I’m out of the water too long, and I left the stuff for Xiaobie’s flower crown over there anyway.”
Now it’s Gao Yingjie’s turn to laugh and Liu Xiaobie’s to blush. When Lu Hanwen turns to lead the way, Gao Yingjie catches Liu Xiaobie’s attention and makes a heart with his thumb and forefinger. Liu Xiaobie rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too much to actually be annoyed.
Truthfully, Gao Yingjie admires the way Lu Hanwen wears his intentions so openly. He clutches his own basket of flowers, hoping to find the courage to do the same.
***
The four of them snag some snacks from the buffet table and make their way to Wandering Stream, a tributary of Blue River that flows at the edge of the forest. Historically, there was a lot of tension among witches and sea monks as to whose territory the stream actually fell under, but now it’s widely recognized that the stream is an important part of both communities' ecosystems.
Lu Hanwen directly submerges himself in the water, and Gao Yingjie sits between Liu Xiaobie and Qiao Yifan on the rocks on the stream’s bank. Gao Yingjie slips off his shoes and dangles his feet over the edge, letting the cool water lap at his feet. Qiao Yifan and Liu Xiaobie do the same, and Spiral busies themself with eating a piece of apple from the plate of fresh fruit and starcakes Gao Yingjie had grabbed from the buffet.
They’re still close enough to see the bright glow of the magical bonfire, but far away enough that the boisterous celebration is no longer deafening. Gao Yingjie lets out a breath. He’s never been good with crowds, and he’s glad Lu Hanwen had suggested they come sit out here. Even if the witches are this year’s hosts, he’s sure Wang Jiexi and Fang Shiqian won’t mind if they take a short break.
Gao Yingjie listens to the steady drum beats and the faint high-pitched whistle of someone playing a flute in the distance. The trees sway as the wind rushes past, as if they’re dancing along to its tune. Perhaps later, Gao Yingjie will be brave enough to ask Qiao Yifan to dance with him.
His pulse races at the thought.
Gao Yingjie glances over at Qiao Yifan, his heart booming like thunder in his ears. He finds Qiao Yifan is already looking at him, his lips widening into a smile when their eyes meet. Gao Yingjie can’t help but smile back; he can’t help but lean in just a little closer, letting their pinkies brush together.
Happiness floods through Gao Yingjie when Qiao Yifan closes his hand around his, and the rest of the world falls away as he lets himself be immersed in Qiao Yifan’s brilliance.
They both startle at the sound of a loud splash, and Gao Yingjie shivers as a ripple of water hits his legs. Lu Hanwen bursts to the surface cradling a variety of plants in his tentacles.
“Don’t look,” Lu Hanwen pointedly says to Liu Xiaobie. He then turns around and swims to the other side of the stream, glancing over his shoulder again to make sure Liu Xiaobie isn’t watching him.
Liu Xiaobie looks down at the water with a cough, the tips of his ears tinged red. “I’m not, okay?” He says, kicking at the water with his feet.
Gao Yingjie stifles a laugh. Adorable.
Liu Xiaobie shoots Gao Yingjie a look and makes a big show of grabbing a handful of lavender and dahlia flowers from the basket behind him. Gao Yingjie swallows, feeling his cheeks heat up as he remembers their promise.
If I make a flower crown for Hanwen you have to make one for Yifan.
Gao Yingjie sucks in a breath and, somewhat reluctantly, releases Qiao Yifan’s hand so he can grab his nasturtium flowers. He feels good about his choice; the orange and yellow blossoms are going to look stunning against Qiao Yifan’s pretty wisteria-colored hair. That is, assuming Qiao Yifan accepts his flower crown…
Gao Yingjie does his best to stop his mind from running in anxious circles and focuses on selecting the best-looking flowers from the bunch. He sets them in his lap, watching out of the corner of his eye as Qiao Yifan picks out a few gum tree flowers from his own basket. Qiao Yifan attempts to tie the ends of their stems together, but it doesn’t work so well and the flowers snap and fall into the water.
“Okay, obviously I have no idea what I’m doing,” Qiao Yifan says. His knee bumps Gao Yingjie’s leg as he turns to face him. “Do you think you could give me some pointers?”
“Oh, sure,” Gao Yingjie replies. He’d been so concentrated on making a flower crown for Qiao Yifan, that he’d nearly forgotten part of his duties as a good host: teaching their guests how to make flower crowns.
“Sorry, I should have shown you first,” Gao Yingjie says as he slides the nasturtium flowers off of his lap. He’s careful not to move his leg away from Qiao Yifan’s knee. He hopes if he keeps his leg still Qiao Yifan might forget how close they are and let them stay like that. “Here, how about you grab some new flowers so we can make a fresh start.”
Qiao Yifan picks out another handful of gum tree blossoms at Gao Yingjie’s instruction. Gao Yingjie is stupidly happy that Qiao Yifan’s knee stays exactly where it is when Qiao Yifan turns to grab more flowers.
“One trick is to braid three of the stems together to help everything stay in place,” Gao Yingjie starts, and Qiao Yifan dutifully picks up three of the flowers and tries to braid them together. “Another trick is, well,” Gao Yingjie continues, lowering his voice, “we witches like to cheat a little and use magic to help things along.”
“Xiaobie!” Lu Hanwen yells from the other side of the stream. “You better not be cheating!”
“It’s not cheating and I’m not!” Liu Xiaobie yells back. Gao Yingjie doesn’t even need to turn around to know his friend’s face is redder than the gum tree flowers.
“Anyway,” Gao Yingjie continues, “some flowers, like lavender, are more naturally suited to being woven into flower crowns so we don’t need to use magic. Other flowers need a bit of extra guidance.”
Qiao Yifan nods, his tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he presses the flower stems to his lap and braids them. It’s going a lot better than before, but the stems are still too rigid for him to braid easily.
Gao Yingjie places his hands on top of Qiao Yifan’s with a soft, “May I?”
Qiao Yifan pauses his braiding and looks up at Gao Yingjie. “Please.”
Magic pulses at Gao Yingjie’s fingertips as he coaxes the flower stems into something more flexible. They bend to the heat of his magic, their texture becoming more like that of a sturdy rope than a tree branch.
“Incredible,” Qiao Yifan breathes. “Yingjie, that was incredible.”
Gao Yingjie has done magic in front of Qiao Yifan loads of times, but he realizes that this is the first time Qiao Yifan has felt his magic directly. He releases Qiao Yifan’s hands, hoping it wasn’t too much. He knows some mundanes are overly sensitive to magic.
Qiao Yifan firmly presses his thumb to his flower braid, keeping everything in place. He slowly flexes his other hand— the one closest to Gao Yingjie— with a look of awe.
“Your magic is so warm,” Qiao Yifan marvels. He finds Gao Yingjie’s hand and slides their fingers together. Gao Yingjie can still feel the buzz of his own magic on Qiao Yifan’s skin and his insides go all fluttery at the sensation. “So warm, like, if joy were something tangible that’s exactly how it would feel.”
Qiao Yifan gives Gao Yingjie’s hand a brief squeeze before letting go and returning to his flower crown. In turn, Gao Yingjie grabs the nasturtium flowers he’d set aside earlier and starts working on his own flower crown. Magic still tingling at his fingertips, the flower stems bend to his will easily. He lets magic and muscle memory take over, unable to keep himself from looking over at Qiao Yifan’s progress. Gao Yingjie likes to watch him work— he likes to watch Qiao Yifan’s slender fingers add more flowers to the braid, slowly letting the flower crown take shape. He likes to watch Qiao Yifan’s face too; he likes how concentrated he looks, as if making a flower crown is the most important thing he’s ever done.
They work side-by-side in relative silence. The wind carries the faint but steady drum beats from the celebration, and the forest hums along in its own quiet melody. The birds chirp, the stream trickles over the rocks, and the leaves rustle in the wind. A serene calm washes over Gao Yingjie at the sound of the forest’s song.
After finishing their flower crowns, Gao Yingjie and Qiao Yifan set them in their baskets off to the side. Qiao Yifan laces their fingers together, and Gao Yingjie lets his head rest on Qiao Yifan’s shoulder. No words pass between them as they sit together and simply listen.
This tranquil silence; however, is quickly interrupted by a feisty, young sea monk.
“Okay, I’m done!” Lu Hanwen announces at the top of his lungs. He swims across the stream to join them, carrying a very unconventional looking flower crown constructed entirely out of aquatic plants.
“So, Xiaobie, what do you think?” Lu Hanwen asks, thrusting the sopping wet flower crown towards Liu Xiaobie.
Liu Xiaobie breaks into a grin as he inspects the flower crown. “Amazing! Hanwen this is amazing. Woah, is that stargrass?”
“Sure is!” Lu Hanwen beams proudly.
“Wow, Xiaobie’s got it bad,” Qiao Yifan whispers. His breath tickles Gao Yingjie’s ear as he speaks.
“Yeah, real bad.” Gao Yingjie stifles a giggle.
Now Liu Xiaobie is showing Lu Hanwen the crown of lavender and dahlia that he made; and, just as Gao Yingjie expected, Lu Hanwen is completely taken with it. He’s making Liu Xiaobie blush with his never-ending praise.
“Come on a walk with me?” Qiao Yifan says, gently nudging Gao Yingjie's ribs with his elbow. Gao Yingjie immediately understands what he’s getting at. They should let Liu Xiaobie and Lu Hanwen exchange flower crowns and whatever words they need to say in peace.
Gao Yingjie nods at Qiao Yifan’s suggestion, his heart hammering as they stand up and gather their things. He looks at his flower crown as he grabs his basket and sets Spiral on his shoulder, willing himself to find the courage to present it to Qiao Yifan and make his feelings known.
***
Gao Yingjie is so busy mentally rehearsing what he’s going to say, that he doesn’t realize where they’re headed until they’ve almost arrived at the tree spirit. The tree spirit is the place in the forest that holds the most meaning for them: it’s where they leave each other notes and silly poems when they don’t have time to meet in person and where they come to be alone and enjoy the quiet of each other’s company.
There isn’t a more perfect spot in the entire forest for Gao Yingjie to present his flower crown to Qiao Yifan. Gao Yingjie’s heart swells at the thought of the two of them standing beneath the tree spirit’s burgundy leaves as he sets his flower crown on top of Qiao Yifan’s head.
Gao Yingjie wonders if Qiao Yifan has simply walked towards the tree spirit out of habit, or if his friend has a bigger reason for leading him here. Perhaps, Qiao Yifan has something important he wants to tell Gao Yingjie, too; but Gao Yingjie pushes the thought out of his mind, not wanting to get his hopes up.
Leaves crunch beneath their feet as they draw closer, and Gao Yingjie’s heart jumps to his throat as the tree spirit comes into view. All of the words he’s rehearsed have escaped him, and he feels like he’s drowning as he clambers to remember what he was going to say.
The familiar curls of Spiral’s energy pulses in his mind as the snail telepathically sends him calming visions of his favorite foods. Gao Yingjie cracks a smile at his familiar’s efforts to help him relax.
And then there’s Qiao Yifan’s hand slipping into his. The warm, steady pressure is grounding, and Gao Yingjie is able to bob his head up to the surface and breathe. The wind pushes at Gao Yingjie’s back as it rushes through the trees, urging him forward. Gao Yingjie straightens his posture and looks up to see Qiao Yifan’s adorable, messy bangs rippling in the wind.
His heart squeezes when Qiao Yifan grins at him.
He takes another breath. He can do this.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” he and Qiao Yifan say at the same time, and then both burst into laughter. Gao Yingjie’s nervousness falls away with the laughter, and the wind sweeps it up and carries it away.
“You go first.”
“No, you.”
“No, really, I insist–”
There’s more back and forth, and then more laughter, until they finally agree to say what they need to say together. Gao Yingjie lets go of Qiao Yifan’s hand so he can take off his witch hat and place Spiral on the tree spirit’s roots. He then takes his flower crown out of his basket with both hands, and watches out of the corner of his eye as Qiao Yifan does the same.
They stand facing each other, both with flower crowns in hand and smiles as radiant as the sun.
“I like you,” Gao Yingjie says, extending his flower crown towards Qiao Yifan. A weight lifts off his chest as soon as the words spring from his lips; he’d been wearing those words close to his bones for so long that he hadn’t realized how heavy they’d become.
“I like you.” Qiao Yifan echoes his words, and Gao Yingjie feels as if he’s lighter than air— as if floating higher and higher into the sky. He’s soaring to the tops of the forest's tallest trees, his head in the clouds puffing above them.
It’s the sight of Qiao Yifan ducking his head down that brings Gao Yingjie back to the forest floor. He extends his crown of nasturtium towards Qiao Yifan, his fingers grazing Qiao Yifan’s soft purple locks as he carefully sets the flower crown on his head.
Gao Yingjie lowers his hands as Qiao Yifan raises his head, his heart dancing to a quick, lively beat. He’d known the nasturtium flowers would look lovely on Qiao Yifan, but seeing it with his own two eyes is exhilarating. He can’t stop smiling as he watches Qiao Yifan carefully touch a finger to the bright orange blooms now resting on his head.
Qiao Yifan smiles back at him—full and bright—and holds up his crown of gum tree blossoms. Gao Yingjie obediently bows his head so Qiao Yifan can set the flower crown there, and he shivers when he feels the blooms touch down. The pulse of his own magic is still flowing from the crown, but it’s layered with a spark of something new. It’s not quite magic, not in the traditional sense, but the energy is similar.
The love and compassion Qiao Yifan had poured into the flower crown has entwined with Gao Yingjie’s own magic, and it envelopes them both in a cozy warmth. Gao Yingjie thinks this special feeling that they’ve managed to conjure up together is better than any spell he’s tried to cast.
Gao Yingjie tilts his head up to meet Qiao Yifan’s gaze, and the two of them move in tandem, gravitating together. The sun hangs low, covering the sky in a pale pink blush that matches the colors of their cheeks. There’s the whisper of leaves rustling above them, and the wind carries the faint sound of drums beating back at the celebration.
They should head back before the sky grows fully dark, but first…
“May I have this dance?” Gao Yingjie asks, and Qiao Yifan is already encircling his hands around Gao Yingjie’s waist before he can finish the question. Gao Yingjie settles his arms on Qiao Yifan’s shoulders and clasps his hands behind Qiao Yifan’s neck as he pulls him as close as he can without crushing the flower crowns on their heads.
They sway together in the wind, dancing in perfect time with the beats of their hearts.