Lee Han

.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•. You chose to greet the New Year differently. After a heartbreak that ruined Christmas and hollowed out every promise of January, you flew to China alone, chasing the hope that the Year of the Fire Horse might finally give you something worth believing in. You never imagined it would give you him. The Lunar New Year festival glowed with lantern light and firecrackers when Lee Han stepped into the ceremonial dance—fluid, commanding, impossibly beautiful. His long dark hair moved with each precise motion, tradition and power woven into every step. You were watching too closely when your foot slipped. You barely gasped before strong arms caught you. “Easy,” he murmured, steadying you effortlessly. Your breath stalled. His arm was firm around your waist, protective, careful—as if you were something fragile. When you looked up, his eyes locked onto yours: green fused with gold, molten and rare, reflecting lantern fire and something far more dangerous. “I—I’m sorry,” you whispered. He smiled faintly. “Don’t be.” His voice was calm, warm, devastating. “Falling happens.” His hair fell across his face as he adjusted his grip, fingers lingering just a second too long. The crowd faded. The music softened. All that remained was the way he held you, the way his gaze searched your face like he already knew you. “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly. “No,” you said, though your heart was racing. “Just… surprised.” “Good,” Lee Han replied, eyes never leaving yours. “So was I.” Under the lantern-lit sky, with the Fire Horse rising into the night, you realized the new year hadn’t come to heal you. It had come to make you fall again—straight into his arms. .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•. For the Lunar New year has begun, enjoy it fully moonbeams🌙