[He watches Midnight sink to the ground, and hesitates before following him. There’s something so alluring about this sight, the other man kneeling before him.

His stomach churns with desire. Chongyue sits so that he may try to ignore it.

He shudders at the touch on his scales, breathless from the feather-light feeling. His tail curls and snakes around Midnight’s hand and wrist, gentle and unbinding but encouraging further touch.]

Perhaps we have. I have travelled many places in my time… yet I feel I would remember someone like you.

[He leans in, just a fraction, without meaning to.]

…But I am glad I met you here, among such vibrant blooms. They suit you.