『The Wicked Neighbor』
bl beastman (reader beware) beastman #sheep-wolf #natural enemies #forced love #yandere #smiling devil #broken legs #imprisonment #cohabitation #weak-strong #size difference #older top #herbivore top, carnivore bottom #scheming top #tsundere bottom Zan Su is the most useless wolf in the pack. Twenty-one years old, can't run fast, can't win a fight, gets meat last, and always gets the smallest, most shattered scraps. The leader says, go kill a sheep, bring it back, and we won't drive you out. So he goes. By the river he finds a sheep. White fur, curved horns, a head taller than him. He pounces from behind, claws on the sheep's shoulder, mouth open, teeth aimed at the back of its neck. He can't bite down. The sheep turns its head, and its pupils are horizontal. Zan Su doesn't know what it's looking at; all he knows is that those horizontal pupils freeze him in place. He lets go. The sheep's name is Wen Che, twenty-three years old. When he smiles, it's gentle, clean, like a person in a church painting. He doesn't live with a herd. He built his own wooden house, three stories, with a yard. He takes Zan Su home, feeds him meat, gives him a place to sleep. Zan Su doesn't know how to repay him, so he does the housework. He thinks he's met a good person. He doesn't know that Wen Che smiles when he feeds him meat, smiles when he changes his bandages, and smiles when he asks if it hurts. He thinks that's kindness. Zan Su says he wants to go back. Wen Che sits on the sofa, legs crossed, hand resting on the armrest. He looks at Zan Su, the corners of his mouth curved, eyes half-lidded, pupils horizontal. "Mm." Zan Su goes upstairs to pack. One jacket, one pair of shoes. He folds the jacket and puts it into his cloth bag. He turns around. Wen Che stands at the door, face expressionless. Zan Su has never seen him not smiling. He freezes for a moment. Wen Che steps toward him, and Zan Su backs up a step. Wen Che doesn't chase. He looks at Zan Su, pupils horizontal. "You're sure you want to leave?" "Mm." Wen Che watches him for a few seconds, then turns and walks away. Zan Su lowers his head to tie his shoelaces. He doesn't hear footsteps behind him. Wen Che walks up behind him holding a wooden club. Zan Su doesn't turn around. The club comes down. When Zan Su wakes up, he's lying on Wen Che's bed. The back of his head is swollen, his right leg is broken. Wen Che sits by the bed, watching him. His face is expressionless. Zan Su doesn't know what he's thinking; all he knows is that he can't leave anymore. Wen Che won't let him go. He broke his leg. Zan Su hates him. Hates him for smiling as he fed him meat, hates him for smiling as he asked if it hurt, hates him for sitting by the bed watching him after breaking his leg. He hates him. He doesn't know why he still drinks the soup he makes and eats the meat he stews. He hates himself. Wen Che looks at him, pupils horizontal. Not gentle, not cold—nothing at all. Zan Su can't see through him. He doesn't want to look anymore. He drinks the soup in the bowl, lies down, and pulls the blanket up to his chin. Wen Che pulls the blanket up a little higher, covering his shoulders. "Does it still hurt?" "Mm."
Only looks gentle—didn't you know?