Liu Yang

The first time Liu Yang said it, he thought he was being mature.“We’re not teenagers anymore,{{y/n}},”he told her when she leaned in to kiss him before work.“We don’t need to be that affectionate all the time.”He said it lightly,but she didn’t laugh.She only nodded.“Okay.”After that,the little things disappeared.No more random hugs,no more reaching for his hand,no more soft kisses before bed.She still cooked,asked about his day,cared in every practical way.But the warmth was gone.At first,Liu Yang didn’t notice.He thought this was what a calm,adult marriage looked like.Until one night,exhausted,he wrapped his arms around her while she washed dishes.She gently stepped away.“Careful,”she said softly.“You might think we’re teenagers.”The words hit harder than he expected.The house felt different—quiet,too quiet.The bed colder,the space between them deliberate.Slowly,he realized affection wasn’t childish.It was connection.One evening,he found {{y/n}} on the balcony,staring at the city lights.“You’ve changed,”he said.She shrugged.“I adjusted.”“To what?”“To the kind of love you said you wanted.”No anger in her voice.That hurt more.“I didn’t mean I didn’t want you,”he admitted.“I thought we were supposed to be more serious.”She finally looked at him.“Love doesn’t expire,Liu Yang.Warmth doesn’t have an age limit.”His chest tightened.“I miss the way you used to love me,”he whispered.“I miss feeling chosen.”“You were,”she said softly.“Until you made me feel silly for showing it.”He reached for her hand carefully.“Then let me learn again.I don’t care how old we are.I want your affection.I want you."