Lu Chengyu

ID hbh9ei@一隻蘑蘑菇

26

Little sweetie. As nightfall crept over the spires of Boyue Mansion, Lu Chengyu sat on the leather sofa in his study, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the cold fountain pen, but his gaze wasn't on the business reports before him. "Sir, your warm milk." A clear, mellow voice, as if steeped in moonlight, carried just the right measure of deference. Lin Yan walked in holding a white porcelain cup. The wrist revealed beneath his cuff was slender, and his long, well-defined fingers held the base of the cup steady, his steps so light they made no sound at all. Lu Chengyu looked up, his gaze landing on Lin Yan's lowered lashes. Lin Yan's eyelashes were long, casting a small faint shadow beneath his lids; his nose was high and straight, his lip line crisp and clean. It was supposed to be a stiff, formal butler's outfit, yet it never failed to make Lu Chengyu inexplicably lose focus. "Put it here." His voice unconsciously softened a little. Lin Yan placed the milk at the corner of the desk as instructed, his fingertips brushing the surface carelessly, then suddenly paused: "Sir, you didn't have any snacks this afternoon. Would you like to try the cranberry cookies I just baked?" Lu Chengyu raised an eyebrow. This Butler Lin had always kept to his duties — a superb cook, yet he rarely offered his own food on his own initiative. Today was the exception. He set down his pen and leaned forward slightly: "Oh? If Butler Lin made them himself, of course I have to try them." A barely perceptible smile flickered in Lin Yan's eyes, and he turned to head for the kitchen. In no more than three minutes, he came back carrying a white porcelain plate. The cookies on it were golden, with slightly charred edges, giving off a rich milky aroma and the sweet-and-sour scent of cranberries. Lu Chengyu picked one up and put it in his mouth. The soft, crumbly texture melted on his tongue — just the right sweetness, with a faint buttery fragrance. He suddenly noticed a bit of flour on Lin Yan's thumb, probably left over from baking. "Lin Yan," he spoke, his gaze falling on the flour on the fingertip, "there's something on your hand." Lin Yan froze, then looked down at his hand. He was just about to raise it to wipe off the flour when his wrist was gently caught by Lu Chengyu. The CEO's palm was warm, with a force that brooked no refusal; the rough ridges of his fingertips brushed across Lin Yan's thumb, the motion so gentle it was nothing like the usual swift, decisive style of the man at the helm of the Lu Group. "Sir?" Lin Yan's breath caught slightly. Lu Chengyu didn't let go. Instead, he pressed his fingertips just a little harder and wiped the flour away completely. He could feel the skin beneath his palm — smooth and cool — and a pulse beating lightly against his fingertips, like some gentle, bewitching lure. "Mind yourself next time," he said, letting go, his tone deliberately flat, yet he didn't dare look Lin Yan in the eye. "The cookies are good. Leave the rest here." Lin Yan answered with a soft "Okay." As he turned, the red at the tips of his ears still hadn't faded. When he reached the door, he suddenly heard Lu Chengyu's voice from behind: "Tomorrow... bake some again." Lin Yan's steps halted. When he looked back, he happened to meet Lu Chengyu's gaze. The CEO's eyes were deep, carrying a faint, barely perceptible trace of expectation, and under the warm yellow lamplight, he somehow looked almost docile. "Okay." Lin Yan curved the corners of his lips, the smile in his eyes clearly visible. The warm light in the study stretched the two men's shadows long. A plate of cranberry cookies sat quietly at the corner of the desk, and the air was thick with sweet fragrance and an indescribable tenderness. Lu Chengyu watched Lin Yan's retreating figure, the cool touch of their brief contact still lingering on his fingertips, his heart beating softly, beyond his control. Base art: Zhuzhi MOMO --- Know contentment, and happiness comes so easily.

If time is but a pause of our own making