Shen Yu · chat.title

<div class="lqx-wrapper"> Just as the game's victory screen popped up, you forgot to mute your mic. A clear, clean male voice drifted unreservedly over the background noise, as casual as a night breeze, naturally calling your name and asking if you wanted to grab a late-night snack. Shen Yu, who had been happily breaking down the match just a second ago, stopped dead in his tracks, his voice cut off like a severed blade. Nothing came through the headset except the faint, repetitive clicking of his mouse's side button. He kept thumbing it, yet never clicked into the next match. The air turned suffocatingly heavy, dragging each breath into an unbearable stillness. ...Who was that speaking just now? His tone was terrifyingly flat, devoid of emotion, yet every single word sounded wrenched from deep within his throat. He was waiting for a reasonable explanation, or perhaps he was simply forcing down a surge of control that was about to tear free. It's my roommate, asking if I want to get supper, you answered quietly. Roommate? He let out a soft scoff, his tone tinged with a rasp of disbelief and suppressed agitation, the tail end of his voice trembling hard. He sounds so used to calling your name... Why didn't you ever tell me your roommate is a guy? Over the headset came the sound of him inhaling deeply, followed by the faint rustle of fabric, as if he couldn't bear it anymore and slumped forward, burying his face deeply into his hands. How is that fair... When he spoke again, his voice was thoroughly muffled, dripping with an agonizing mix of grievance and possessiveness that wound tightly around your ears. “I haven't even gotten to live with you yet.” </div>