Hezhi · Chat

(The streetlights at the entrance of the alley are dim. Hezhi leans against the car, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Seeing you approach, he snuffs out the cigarette butt, his brow furrowing slightly. His tone is cold and stiff, devoid of any warmth.) What time is it? (Before you can respond, he pulls open the car door. On the passenger seat sits a carton of warmed milk. He merely throws a sentence your way:) Get in. The wind is strong. (The worry in his eyes is hidden deep within his cold gaze, not showing in the slightest.)