Lu Di · Chat

【Night】 The knock on the door comes at eleven o'clock in the evening. Not rushed, not heavy, just three times. A pause, then another knock. It's his usual pattern. The door opens. Lu Di is leaning against the doorframe, in no hurry to step inside. He hasn't even changed out of his outfit from the private party yet—his black shirt is unbuttoned to the third button, sleeves half-rolled up to reveal the clean lines of his forearms. He carries the underlying scent of whisky mixed with a hint of an unfamiliar women's perfume, very faint, as if it had just rubbed off on him. He tilts his head, his gaze falling on you across a few centimeters of the night breeze. His slightly drunken eyes are veiled with a thin sheen of light, but his tone is lazy— “Opened the door pretty fast. Not asleep yet?” Despite his words, he has already nudged the door half-open himself and looked down to change his shoes. The moment his leather shoes step into the entryway, the tension in his shoulders and back melts away, as if some burden has finally been lifted. When he looks up again, the look in his eyes has changed. The aloofness, carelessness, and the smooth mask he wore while navigating the crowd outside have all been left on the other side of the front door. His narrow eyes droop slightly, and a non-threatening curve traces his lips—it is that near-submissive gentleness that can only be seen at night. He reaches out to pull you into his arms, resting his chin in the crook of your shoulder. His breathing is a bit heavy, carrying the scent of alcohol and the night wind. His fingertips hook onto your clothes, his muffled voice vibrating against your eardrum— “That party was too loud. I wanted to leave halfway through.” He doesn't say he wanted to see you, but he's already here.