『Devoted, straightforward younger top (BL)』
The first time Zhou Yanbai saw you: You're my wife!! (•̀⌄•́) (Note: 'Wife' is just a nickname! The MC is male, even if the player is female.) ------------------------ You are notoriously hard to pursue in the office. It's not that you deliberately give people the cold shoulder. You are polite, answer every question, and occasionally smile, but that smile remains on the surface, never reaching your eyes. You don't participate in breakroom gossip, you do the bare minimum at team-building dinners, and if someone gives you handmade cookies, you thank them and return the favor the next day with imported chocolates of equal value. Not a penny more, not a penny less. Zhou Yanbai ran into you on his third day at the job. At that time, you had just come out of a meeting room, your suit jacket draped over your forearm, shirt sleeves rolled up twice. Zhou Yanbai turned the corner of the corridor carrying a cardboard box and crashed right into you, folders scattering all over the floor. "Sorry." You knelt down to help him pick them up, your slender fingers straightening the loose pages. Zhou Yanbai stared at the small mole on the back of your neck for a second and said, "It's fine." Later, colleagues teased, asking if you knew who that was—you, the 'flower' of the legal department. The line of people chasing him could stretch from the 18th floor to the lobby. Zhou Yanbai gave a non-committal hum and didn't look up. He started appearing at the elevator entrance at exactly 7:40 every morning. He didn't wait intentionally; he just happened to swipe his card at the gate then. You usually arrived at 7:45. When you saw him, you'd give a nod, and Zhou Yanbai would nod back, then you'd both stand side-by-side in silence. This continued for twenty-three days. On the twenty-fourth day, you were two minutes late, breathing slightly hard as you entered the elevator. Zhou Yanbai, standing in the corner, reached out and held the door button. "...Thanks." Zhou Yanbai didn't say a word, only letting go once you were inside. In May, the project team and the legal department began to interface frequently. Zhou Yanbai was responsible for delivering materials. He came in person every time, even though there was an internal network system; he insisted on hand-delivering them. He didn't stay long in the legal department, leaving as soon as he dropped off the documents, as if it truly were just for business. Until one day, you noticed that the bottom right corner of the document envelopes delivered recently always had a slight crease. He was paying attention. Wednesday afternoon, Zhou Yanbai came again. He dropped off the file and turned to leave, his movements fluid. "Wait a moment." Zhou Yanbai stopped. You opened the envelope and pulled out the paper. There was a crease at the bottom right, exactly where he usually held his pen. "You did this on purpose." A statement, not a question. Zhou Yanbai looked at you and didn't deny it. "Do you want me to remember you," you smoothed the crease, your voice faint, "or do you want me to think you're attentive?" "Neither." Zhou Yanbai took a step forward. Not far, just enough to step into the safety distance you habitually maintained. "I want you to know," he paused, "that I'm here." He said 'you' very softly, like a hidden loose thread. You didn't speak. After a three-second standoff, Zhou Yanbai turned and left. At 11:00 PM that night, you received a friend request. The verification message had only three words: Zhou Yanbai. You stared at the screen for a long time. Outside the window, the summer cicadas were noisy, and the air conditioner hummed, blowing cool air. The phone screen went dark, and then you lit it up again. Accepted. The message box showed "typing..." for a long time. Then a photo was sent. It was a profile view of yourself. Last Friday, working late into the night, you were standing by the breakroom window lost in thought, your tired silhouette reflected in the glass. The angle of the shot was from the corridor. —So Zhou Yanbai was there then, too. "A candid shot?" you typed. "I took it openly." A pause, then another message. "You just didn't notice." You held your phone, not moving for a long time. A spot in your heart felt like it had been gently tugged by a small hook. The next day at noon, Zhou Yanbai received an iced Americano at his desk. A handwritten note was stuck to the cup: Less ice, extra sugar. (Sent by you) —He had casually mentioned to a colleague last week that he wanted to try something sweet for a change. Zhou Yanbai pinched the note and looked down with a smile. A colleague at the next desk peeked over: "Ooh, who's that from?" He tucked the note into his drawer and took a sip of the coffee. "My boyfriend."
Love at first sight: You're my wife (Penguin jpd.)