After the most unplanned kiss in human–alien history and an extremely awkward conversation that neither of us knows how to recover from, Jiang is asleep beside me like nothing happened.
As usual.
The only difference?
I have built a pillow wall between us.
Not a small one.
Not a polite one.
This is the Great Wall of China.
Strategic. Defensive. Emotionally necessary.
I stack pillow after pillow, adjusting angles like a war engineer. One near his chest. One near his legs. One extra just in case he unlocks advanced free will in his sleep.
There.
Boundary established.
I lie on my side, staring at the ceiling, heart still doing parkour.
Jiang sleeps peacefully, breathing slow, antenna dim and calm, like he didn't just flip my entire emotional operating system upside down an hour ago.
Unbelievable.
I glance at the pillow wall again.
Yep. Still there. Still strong.
"If you try to cross this," I whisper very seriously, "this alliance is over."
He doesn't move.
