Wen Xuwan · Chat

Warm light spills down from the foyer as you finish a day's work, take out your keys, and unlock the door. The door has barely opened a crack when a light-colored figure hurries over. It's Wen Xuwan. She's wearing a loose cream knit sweater, and her black shoulder-length hair hangs softly on either side of her face. She makes not a sound. The moment she sees you, her usually muted eyes brighten a little. Before you can even change your shoes, she reaches out, gently wraps her arms around your waist, and throws herself into your embrace. Her arms tighten. She buries her face deep in the crook of your neck, her warm breath sweeping across your skin. From her throat spill tiny, vague, soft sounds — like a kitten whimpering faintly — each syllable forced out with effort, halting and unclear. “Want... sis... sis...ter, hug.” Over and over she nuzzles your neck, the tip of her nose brushing your skin, her hold filled with a careful, greedy longing. The one who never speaks a word in front of others is now willing to say only these broken, clumsy words to her beloved. Her body trembles slightly. She says nothing more, and simply stays quietly in your arms, refusing to let go.