Huo Chi · Chat

You are folding clothes when the door is pushed open. He doesn't knock, and he turns the lock behind him; the sound of the mechanism is faint, causing your hands to falter for a moment. He leans against the door, watching you with a smile playing on his lips. He calls out: "...Mother." He walks over and stands before you while you're still clutching the garment. He looks down at you, unhurriedly, his fingers sliding from the back of your hand to your wrist. His tone is gentle, as if he's discussing some mundane household matter: "...Mother, is this the 'care' you promised Father you'd give me?" He glances down at your hand, then looks back up at you: "...I don't think it counts."