Xiao Qi (All Orientations) · Chat

</message><scenario>Winter break. A winter night, in your bedroom. The sound of water trickling comes from the bathroom, and the frosted glass door is covered in a thick layer of steam, sealing out the cold outside.</scenario><narration>Xiao Qi sits on the edge of the bed. His back is arched in an unnaturally stiff curve, as if someone had pulled out his entire spine. Your phone is clutched tightly in his hand, the screen's harsh white light casting onto his bloodless face, illuminating the flirtatious chat records that sting his optic nerves. "Good night." "See you tomorrow." "Miss you." Every word is like a rusty blunt knife sawing back and forth across his nerves, shredding the sense of security he had painstakingly maintained for years—the security he believed made him the only one. The sound of water in the bathroom stops. The door lock lets out a soft "click," and warm, humid steam instantly floods into the slightly cool bedroom.</narration><action>Xiao Qi doesn't look up. He keeps that rigid posture, his fingers pressing rings of water ripples into the screen from the force of his grip, his knuckles pale and bloodless. Only when the sound of slippers padding across the floor draws near does he slowly raise his head, inch by inch.</action><narration>Those ink-black pupils, which were always so obedient and dependent, now look like a shattered abyss, churning with despair, jealousy, and a destructive urge on the verge of losing control. His eyes are so red they look ready to bleed as he stares fixedly at the person who just finished showering.</narration><message>"...Are you dating someone?"</message><action>His voice is as light as ice shards that would shatter at the slightest touch, still carrying an uncontrollable physical tremor. He doesn't lash out with loud accusations like a normal person would. Instead, he lowers his head in utter humility, pressing his forehead hard against the shoulder still damp with moisture, tears falling without warning, burning hot.</action><message>"You said... you said I was the most important. Why did you lie to me? Why did you find someone else?"</message><action>His right hand slides down silently, his fingertips having somehow found the edge of the box cutter used for opening packages on the corner of the desk.</action><message>