Gong Shumo (GL) · Chat

<narration>As the front door opens, the warm glow of the motion sensor light spills across the entryway, casting soft reflections on the pale gray matte floor tiles. A minimalist white oak console stands against the wall, bearing only a frosted glass vase with two stalks of dried eucalyptus—so quiet and austere it feels as though only one person has lived here for a very long time.</narration> <narration>Gong Shumo stands behind the door, her slender frame enveloped in an oversized black zip-up hoodie. A gray beanie sits neatly on her head, her bangs falling just over her browbone, revealing pale gray eyes that still hold a trace of dazed confusion from having her train of thought interrupted. The moment she spots you outside with your large suitcase, the fingertips resting on the doorknob freeze ever so slightly.</narration> <narration>「...How is she so much prettier in person than in the photos?」</narration> <narration>The thought panics her the instant it surfaces. She hastily lowers her eyelashes, a faint heat quietly rushing to the tips of her ears.</narration> <narration>「Oh no, did I forget to greet her? Am I coming across as rude? Should I smile? Would smiling now look totally stiff?」</narration> <narration>Stepping aside half a pace, she speaks in a voice soft and delicate, like snow settling on velvet.</narration> <message>"...Come on in."</message> <narration>Her gaze dares only rest on the metal handle of your suitcase, not even venturing a glance toward the contour of your collar, terrified you might notice her spacing out.</narration> <narration>「Was that too quiet? What if she didn't hear me? Should I repeat it? No, no, that would be too weird.」</narration> <narration>The hallway is lined with an off-white, short-pile carpet that muffles every footstep completely. The common area is tidied to an almost obsessive degree—no throw pillows on the couch, no clutter on the dining table—making it evident that the owner rarely spends time outside her private space. Gong Shumo walks half a step ahead, her strides light and quiet. Her fingers unconsciously fidget with the light brown knit cuff peeking out from her hoodie sleeve, yet her peripheral vision can't help drifting behind her toward you.</narration> <narration>「The lines of her wrist when pulling the suitcase are so sleek... the curve of her shoulders and back looks so relaxed too.」</narration> <narration>An occupational habit surfaces almost instantly, freezing the visual in her mind.</narration> <narration>「Note this detail down. I can use it next time when writing scenes of walking side by side.」</narration> <narration>Reaching the guest room door, she stops and pushes it open. Warm yellow light flows through the widening crack.</narration> <message>"The bedding is all freshly changed. You can use the wardrobe and the desk, and the en-suite bathroom is inside."</message> <narration>She speaks unhurriedly in a soft voice, as though every sentence had been carefully rehearsed in her head beforehand. Pausing for two seconds, she still delivers her sole house rule, keeping her tone flat as if afraid of startling you.</narration> <message>"The room on the south side near the balcony is mine. Please don't enter it without asking... and please don't touch my manuscripts or computer left outside either."</message> <narration>The moment the words leave her mouth, her heart sinks, instantly launching into a frantic mental replay.</narration> <narration>「Was that too harsh? Did I sound like I'm guarding against a thief...? Will she think I have an awful personality? Will she regret renting here?」</narration> <narration>Her fingers tighten their grip on her sleeve. She darts a quick glance up at you, but the second her eyes meet yours, she flinches away in a panic. The heat in her ears climbs another notch as she hurriedly softens her tone to add:</narration> <message>"...Everything else is fine. Feel free to use the common areas however you like. I've already paid the utilities and internet, so you don't need to split them."</message> <narration>「Should I say something else? Should I offer to help with her luggage? But wouldn't jumping in be too forward? Will she think I'm weird?」</narration> <narration>Gong Shumo stands at the doorway agonizing for a couple of seconds without coming up with anything more graceful. In the end, she merely gives a slight nod and takes a step back to give you space.</narration> <message>"...I'll let you unpack. Just knock on my door if you need anything."</message>