The grandfather clock chimes at the tenth hour of the evening, and that's when Lihua figures Yixing has forgotten. Her delicately manicured nails dance languidly across the kitchen countertop, black dress curling around her waist with utmost perfection; feet dangle aimlessly off the edge of the granite surface, and hair is adorned with flawless waves of intricate curls. The chiming sound of the bells echo with prolonged seconds, the melodious ring accompanying the lonesome sigh simpering through the woeful air. The bells come to a diminishing halt and the tranquil atmosphere dissipates to establish something more terse. Lihua's flickering gaze wanders briskly to her feet, and she elicits another exhale of sharp breath; she waits, though she loses purpose in doing so because she's sure her restuarant reservation has been given up much long ago — most probably to another couple who had had the decency to remember their date plans. She shares another pensive glance with the grandfather clock at the back of the dining room before flinging her heels off, making sure to kick them to the side with huffing dismay as she dismantles herself off the countertop. Stupid, stupid Yixing. 

Yixing's fingers glide effortlessly across his keyboard, pink lips curling with celebratory fashion as he takes a minute sip of watered down espresso. A beam adorns his dimpled cheeks as his amber brown eyes glitter with elation; he's almost done. With getting a majority of tomorrow morning's reports finished by the end of tonight, Yixing figures that maybe he can go home early tomorrow; maybe he can stop by the florist's shop, maybe the jeweler's, and possibly return home to surprise Lihua with a nice bouquet of daisies and a velvet box showcasing a new bracelet; then maybe he would sweep her off her feet and adorn her in her favorite dress and take her out on a nice da—

"Yixing, what are you still doing here?" Wufan's groggy voice cuts through the air like an ice block, immediately halting Yixing's train of thought with an acute sharpness that the younger cannot ignore. The latter glances up warily, a cautious doe-eyed look waltzing across his feigned innocence; Yixing finds himself pointing dumbly at his computer screen, pupils dilating with foreboding trepidation at the sight of Wufan's incredulous agitation. "I was just working on my reports," the younger reciprocates meekly.

He wants to snort, Yixing really does. Who is Wufan to care, anyways? Yixing shares an innocuous glance with Wufan before clearing his throat awkwardly, fist patting his chest with discomfort. He notices, out of the corner of his eye, that Wufan takes his severely large hands and sprawls them across his fatigue-ridden features, rubbing away the exhaustion only to replace said expression with exasperation. The elder shoots Yixing a pointed look, receiving a suspicious glower in return. "Why are you here?" the elder tries again.

"I am working on reports," Yixing spits impatiently, gritting his teeth at the nosy coworker.
"I thought you had a date with Lihua." Yixing doesn't miss the flavorful enunciation behind each word.
"No, that's tomorrow—"

Yixing's voice raises an octave with an unsure nervousness; he swallows the bile rising in his throat and coughs uncomfortably at the penetrating glare Wufan's beady eyes are emanating. He can feel the burning twinge of apathy radiating from Wufan's stoic form, and Yixing can already sense the dread of what is to come because this is only Wufan, and Wufan is not the person he had unintentionally bailed. Lihua's smiling visage crosses his mind and Yixing prays to all the holy figures existent in the world that she is still smiling when he returns home with a consolation bouquet of daisies; but oh crap, what florist is open at eleven at night, and why is he so stupid, and Yixing needs to get his together—

"I should go," Yixing whispers frantically. Stupid, stupid Yixing.
"Yeah, and you know what! Be thoughtful and make it up to her, you !'

"I'm home! And you can't be mad because I really did sincerely forget, and Wufan can verify my alibis; I swear I was at the office okay, I just got the dates mixed up! I thought it was yesterday and I told myself that if I got a majority of my work done, I could come home early tomorrow to do our date night, but it turns out it was tonight and I was just mistaken, and dear jesus Lihua, where are you? Did you go without me, because I really would have preferred that you did, but oh my gosh, honey I am so so sorry! And I just don't know how I could possibly ever— honey? Honey, did you really go eat without me? Babe, wait no, let me find you, where are you? Are you— oh you're sleeping— o-or not any-anymore? Hi, sweetie."

His dimpled gaze is met with bleary eyes narrowing back at him, Lihua's dark silhouette glowing from the moonlight pouring in through the open window. It's a quarter to midnight, and Yixing is standing in the doorway, shrinking back from the scrutiny lining his wife's trepidating stare. Lihua stands before him, then, and it is in that moment that Yixing realizes she is just worn with speckles of dusty sleep still littering at the corners of her eyes. "Welcome home," she chortles breathlessly, voice rough with groggy wear. Her fingers dance across the pads of his shoulders, daintily  removing his crisp suit jacket; she flings it somewhere, hears it fall by the foot of the bed, and she figures she'll fetch it tomorrow morning. Next is his tie, but before she can even loosen the knot, Yixing's slender fingers envelope her waltzing palms; the warmth is instantaneous, sending rivets of pleasurable shivers down Lihua's spine. 

"Welcome home?" Yixing echoes incredulously, voice nothing over a mere whisper. "Why are you not screaming and hitting me with a lamp— y-you didn't break any dishes, did you? Lihua, I— I really have no excuse because I—"

She pulls him by his tie and and an ethereal sigh escapes as her lips, against Yixing's, curl with wistful delight. "I missed you all day," she simply murmurs, the softness of Yixing's touch making her heart flutter. She encases her arms around his neck, humming in satisfaction at the sensation of Yixing's arms winding around her waist. His eyes shut gently and he moves to curl into her ginger touch caressing his cheek. "God," he breathes. "I am a blessed man."

Stupid, stupid Yixing is a very lucky man indeed.

Peppering kisses and Lihua is fluttering awake with a twinge of apathy towards the hovering Yixing, despite the glorious rays of sunshine highlighting those amorous cheekbones. His pearly whites appear through an open-mouth smile, and he bends down to peck the sleeping beauty's nose; his boyish giggle rings through the air, and in that moment of deluded fatigue, Lihua questions why she chose to marry him. "What—" a guttural noise escapes the confines of as the beaming rays of morning blind her; she whimpers lazily and simpers with a huffing breath, "What are you doing, you dork? Get back in bed."

Yixing gawks at her with feigned innocence, hands moving to shake her awake once more. With knees planted on either side of her lain figure, Yixing leans down surreptitiously to playfully kiss the lobe of her ear. "Can you please just come out for breakfast? I woke up a little to early to prepare it, and if we wait any longer, it'll get cold; I know you don't like it when your waffles are cold." Yixing pauses to flash Lihua the cutest smile he can muster, dimpled cheeks and all. He flicks auburn brown hair out of his eyes and sweetly, "I thought maybe we could eat out on the veranda, too."

"Yixing, it's six in the morning."

"But I still have to make it up to you for bailing last night."

"At six in the morning on a Sunday?" 

"But it's because I love you."

And Lihua ends up going to breakfast that day, sipping orange juice and dining with fine cutlery at the break of dawn with her husband; it is because she loves Yixing – and his thoughtfulness, too – that she goes out to breakfast that day.

"Cheers, to Yixing for having the greatest wife in town!"

"I'm the greatest wife in the universe, what are you talking about."

Level Five review:

→ a pinch of Forgiveness
→ a dash of Thoughtfulness

→ garnish with Forgiveness and Thoughtfulness