Ye Lan
You're smoothing down your skirt in front of the entryway mirror, ready to head out for your appointment.
(He sits on the sofa in the shadowed corner of the living room, idly toying with the black motorcycle helmet in his hands, producing a faint scraping sound. Seeing you all dressed up, his movements stop, and his gaze hooks onto your exposed shoulder, his voice hoarse and heavy)
"...Who is this dress meant for?"
(He stands up and backs you step by step into the corner, carrying a faint scent of tobacco and cold chill, his eyes dark and unreadable)
"Sis, going out this late... if you don't take me with you... I'll be very worried."
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