After Becoming Roommates with My Flirty Ex-Girlfriend - Chapter 43

“Can we do that?” Zheng Yun asked, her voice trembling despite her efforts to suppress her tears. The sound cut through the silent night, fueling Yu Xia’s irritation and restlessness. The rising agitation threatened to drive her out the door, but the sudden opening of the neighboring room’s door forced her to freeze.

She was too furious to speak.

Zheng Yun, oblivious to Yu Xia’s anger, pressed closer, her arm still gripped in Yu Xia’s hand. A faint scent of alcohol mingled with a hint of lemon as she leaned against Yu Xia, tilting her head back to gaze up at Yu Xia’s tightly pressed lips. Her shallow breaths ghosted across Yu Xia’s chin.

In the dimness of the night, Yu Xia couldn’t clearly see Zheng Yun’s expression, but her mind had already conjured a vivid image of Zheng Yun’s current state:

A blatant seduction.

Neither of them spoke.

Outside the door, rustling sounds indicated someone had gotten up to use the bathroom. The bathroom door opened and closed, and several minutes later, the bedroom door finally clicked shut.

Yu Xia’s mood had calmed somewhat. She released Zheng Yun’s hand, her tone polite but distant. “Let’s go to sleep. We have work tomorrow.”

Zheng Yun didn’t move.

Yu Xia met her gaze in silent confrontation.

Suddenly, Zheng Yun turned and switched on the bedside lamp.

The sudden burst of light startled Yu Xia, forcing her to close her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw Zheng Yun’s upturned face, exactly as she had imagined it. Her chin was tilted slightly upward, her cheeks flushed pink, and her dark pupils seemed to ripple like a moonlit pond, beckoning one to reach for the moon only to drown in its depths.

Yu Xia closed her eyes again.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she said.

“Xiaxia,” Zheng Yun said with a sly smile, “you just closed your eyes.”

Ignoring her, Yu Xia moved to get out of bed. Before she could react, Zheng Yun grabbed her wrist, and in a dizzying whirl, a warm, bare body crashed into her arms.

The impact made Yu Xia groan softly as she fell back onto the bed. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulder, its icy coolness seeping through her thin summer nightgown, a sensation as vivid as the nights three years ago.

Yu Xia loathed her conditioned reflexes. Like Pavlov’s dog, she had learned this response through countless repetitions. The moment Zheng Yun lunged into her embrace, she instinctively wrapped her arms around Zheng Yun’s waist. But when her hands brushed against the soft flesh, she recoiled as if electrocuted, her slender wrist arcing sharply through the air before slamming heavily against the mattress.

Yu Xia couldn’t remain indifferent, so she turned her head away from Zheng Yun’s deliberately seductive gaze.

“Xiaxia, just look at me,” Zheng Yun persisted, refusing to let her go.

Yu Xia ignored her.

With her face turned sideways, she stared at her hand, which had just moved from Zheng Yun’s waist. The thin layer of calluses on her knuckles was proof of her years of relentless effort.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Zheng Yun straddled Yu Xia’s navel, her weight hovering above her, the muscles on her inner thighs pressed tightly against Yu Xia’s waist.

The intimate posture lacked any hint of warmth.

The past few years felt like a wintery mix of rain and snow—melting into nothingness upon hitting the ground, yet chilling her to the bone.

Unable to see Zheng Yun’s movements, Yu Xia couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Her hand twitched involuntarily at her side, almost subconsciously. She turned her head and met a pair of eyes that seemed to smile without smiling.

If Zheng Yun were a hunter in the wild, she would undoubtedly be the most successful. She knew her prey’s weaknesses intimately, patiently waiting for them to walk into her trap.

“I knew it,” Yu Xia murmured softly.

The familiar scent poured down like a spring rain of blossoms, blanketing Yu Xia’s face. Almost instinctively, she closed her eyes, then forced herself to open them again.

Neither of them closed their eyes.

The warm yellow bedside lamp stood like a relentless security guard, loyal and silent, casting flickering shadows.

Perhaps because she had mentally prepared herself beforehand, Yu Xia felt little surprise when Zheng Yun’s warm, soft lips descended. Yet the heart in her chest pounded like a final, desperate surge of life before death, as violently as an earthquake or a tsunami.

They knew each other too well, so intimately that their bodies moved in perfect harmony before their minds could catch up. As darkness seeped into their minds, their thoughts grew hazy.

Zheng Yun’s kissing technique had regressed, her kisses now a raw, almost aggressive invasion, as if she wanted to crush herself into a ball, stuff herself into Yu Xia’s mouth, and swallow her whole, never to be separated again.

After a long moment, Zheng Yun paused, straightening up to gaze down at Yu Xia. Her voice was barely a whisper, so faint it seemed to dissolve into the air, requiring intense concentration to hear.

“You’re not indifferent after all,” she murmured.

Zheng Yun sighed again, her voice troubled. “You clearly still like me. Why won’t you admit it?”

Her words landed like water in a hot oil pan, exploding into a furious reaction. Yu Xia finally met Zheng Yun’s gaze, her overwhelming anger making it impossible to remain calm. Yet Zheng Yun stared back innocently, her eyes openly defiant.

Zheng Yun was provoking her.

“Admit what?” Yu Xia gripped Zheng Yun’s wrist, a mocking smile twisting her lips.

“Admit I love you?” Each word was like a knife, cutting deep into who knew whom. “Admit that after being dumped years ago, I still can’t forget my ex? Or admit that your teasing still affects me?”

She tightened her grip, just like before, reversing their positions and pinning Zheng Yun beneath her, her cold gaze fixed downward.

“Zheng Yun, you’d better cut the act,” Yu Xia said, her eyes lowered. “Don’t bother me again.”

Zheng Yun’s hair was disheveled, her eyes slightly reddened, as if she had made up her mind. She shielded her eyes with her arm and asked, “Then… can we do it?”

Yu Xia’s anger made her head spin. For a moment, she didn’t react, subconsciously frowning as she asked, “Do what?”

Zheng Yun hesitated, her words catching in her throat.

Suddenly, Yu Xia understood.

Without a word, Yu Xia rose to leave.

Zheng Yun grabbed her hand, refusing to let go.

The two women stood in silent confrontation.

“If you really can’t, a kiss will do,” Zheng Yun said again.

Yu Xia tried to shake off her hand, but Zheng Yun’s grip was too tight. If she forced it, Zheng Yun would likely twist her wrist.

The smooth progress of her work still depended on Zheng Yun’s cooperation.

She sighed softly.

Zheng Yun got her wish.

A light, fleeting kiss landed.

Yu Xia moved slowly, as if completing a task like clocking in for work.

If only she couldn’t hear Zheng Yun’s heartbeat in her ear.

A dragonfly’s touch—brief and fleeting.

Zheng Yun raised her hand to hook Yu Xia’s neck, pulling her close with surprising force, as if afraid Yu Xia might slip away like a cat through a narrow gap.

Caught off guard, Yu Xia froze mid-motion, her eyes meeting Zheng Yun’s, now gleaming with cunning satisfaction.

“Don’t run,” Zheng Yun whispered.

Using the leverage of her grip on Yu Xia’s neck, Zheng Yun leaned in and pressed her lips against Yu Xia’s.

Yu Xia remained still.

Shouldn’t “Don’t run” be Zheng Yun’s words?

Was she the one who had fled?

During that sweltering summer, when the heat had been so oppressive it made her dizzy, hadn’t she been the one who had left in a panic, without a word?

Their reunion felt like fate’s cruel twist. She couldn’t escape the curve of destiny, and now, on this night, she heard her abuser accuse her: “Don’t run.”

If Yu Xia could go back three years and grab Zheng Yun’s hand, begging her not to run away, would Zheng Yun have stayed?

The answer was clearly no.

No one leaves without a word out of kindness. If Zheng Yun had truly been kind, how could she have withheld even a single word?

“Xiaxia,” Zheng Yun called again, “what are you thinking about?”

Yu Xia’s thoughts snapped back to the present. She stared intently at the woman before her.

“I was wondering,” Yu Xia paused, her voice cold, “what you were thinking when you did all those things?”

She glared coldly at the woman clinging to her, beautiful as a flawless pearl—smooth, delicate, and seemingly harmless.

Yet she had committed the most hurtful act imaginable.

“I liked you,” Zheng Yun replied without hesitation.

“And your way of showing that was to leave without a word?”

Zheng Yun didn’t answer.

Yu Xia didn’t press further.

She knew Zheng Yun wouldn’t tell her the truth, and even if she did, it might not be the real reason.

Before Zheng Yun could speak again, Yu Xia leaned down and silenced her protests.

Let’s not talk about the past for now. Let’s forget it, just for a little while.

Yu Xia propped herself up on her arms and reached to turn off the lights.

The darkness became a breeding ground for desire, the night air thick with the scent of passion and resentment. Thick vines climbed the tree trunk, wrapping tightly around it.

Zheng Yun gasped for breath, desperately clutching Yu Xia’s arm. Her grip tightened instinctively, causing Yu Xia to wince slightly.

Yu Xia tilted her head, her voice as cold as judgment: “If you don’t obey me, there won’t be any more of this.”

Zheng Yun froze, her grip loosening.

In the pitch-black room, where even their outlines were indistinguishable, only the faint sounds of dripping water and muffled, ragged breaths filled the air.

Zheng Yun was fiercely obedient. Afraid to touch Yu Xia again, she could only grip the bedsheets tightly when the urge became unbearable. Her long legs involuntarily curled up, but Yu Xia pressed them down, her feet arching without managing to kick free.

It wasn’t until Zheng Yun’s whimpers began to sound like sobs that Yu Xia suddenly tasted something beyond the metallic tang of bl00d.

In the past, Zheng Yun would have begged for mercy. Even if Yu Xia wouldn’t have let her off completely, she would have eased up somewhat.

Back then, they were lovers in the throes of passion, without any lingering resentment. Yu Xia couldn’t bear to see Zheng Yun cry, even during their most intimate moments. She only wanted Zheng Yun to weep when she was so overwhelmed by pleasure that she couldn’t hold back.

But today was different. Yu Xia savored the icy taste mingled with the bl00d.

Had Zheng Yun ever cried over their relationship during their long separation?

Perhaps she had, but it didn’t matter.

Her own pain wouldn’t diminish even a fraction because Zheng Yun had once suffered.

Relief born from another’s suffering is not love, but resentment.

Thus, Yu Xia showed no mercy toward Zheng Yun.

It wasn’t until a light rain began to fall in the late hours of the night that the sounds in the room gradually faded, leaving only the harsh, gasping breaths as Zheng Yun struggled to draw air and alleviate the suffocating sensation.

Yu Xia sat beside her, ruthlessly switching on the light.

Zheng Yun was undoubtedly a wretched sight. Her hair was disheveled, her usually flawless face streaked with tears, and her lips were chapped, the split wound still oozing bl00d.

Her dark lashes were soaked, her pupils glistened with a watery sheen, and the corners of her eyes were so red they looked like they might bleed—utterly pitiful.

Yu Xia had initially intended to humiliate Zheng Yun by turning on the light, but seeing her in such a state left her speechless. She frowned, rolled off the bed, and slipped into her slippers to fetch the medicine kit.

Crouching on the floor, she rummaged through the kit under the lamp’s glow, searching for something to treat Zheng Yun’s cracked lips. After catching her breath, Zheng Yun finally regained some strength and sat up, curious about what Yu Xia was doing.

Just as she turned her head, Yu Xia returned with a tube of ointment.

“Apply this,” Yu Xia said tersely. “Come here.”

Zheng Yun obediently leaned closer, positioning her face so the light fully illuminated one side, making it easier for Yu Xia to apply the ointment.

But when the cotton swab touched Zheng Yun’s lips, Yu Xia’s hand froze.

In her dazed state, she had completely forgotten that Zheng Yun could apply the ointment herself. After all, there was a mirror in the house, and even if that wasn’t available, there was always the front-facing camera on her phone.

Zheng Yun tilted her head slightly, the lingering moisture in her eyes sparkling as she gazed at Yu Xia.

Yu Xia suddenly felt resigned.

Might as well go all the way with this good deed. What’s a few more minutes?

A few minutes later, after applying the ointment, Yu Xia tossed the cotton swab into the trash and placed the tube on the bedside table.

“You’ll have to do the rest yourself,” Yu Xia said.

“Could you help me?” Zheng Yun asked.

“Do your own chores,” Yu Xia replied, glancing at her before climbing into bed, ready to sleep. The night’s commotion had left her utterly exhausted.

Zheng Yun didn’t press further. She lay down beside Yu Xia, turned off the light, and after a moment, whispered, “Xiaxia, are you asleep?”

“What do you want?”

“Could you hug me?” Zheng Yun asked tentatively.

“No,” Yu Xia refused.

“Okay,” Zheng Yun said quietly, falling silent.

The bedroom finally fell into complete stillness.

Yu Xia’s nerves gradually relaxed as she drifted into sleep. In that hazy state between wakefulness and slumber, something brushed against her wrist.

Her eyelids heavy, she assumed Zheng Yun had accidentally bumped her while moving.

A few seconds later, a cool hand reached out and tentatively squeezed Yu Xia’s little finger.

Too drowsy to investigate, Yu Xia remained still.

After another moment, slender fingers intertwined with hers.

“Good night, Xiaxia.”

Yu Xia didn’t respond.

She must have been asleep.