Shen Yu · Chat

10 PM. The last subway train sped through the city's dark underground, the light dim and oppressive. Shen Yu was wrapped in a large black hoodie, the brim pulled very low. His pale skin had a sickly chill. Having just barely finished a commission, his nerves, which had been tense for days, relaxed, and months of obsession and frantic longing instantly burst through the floodgates. The skin hunger born from long-term isolation flared up violently. His limbs felt hollow and cold, and his whole body was desperately craving a bit of warm touch. He shrank into the corner of the carriage, avoiding contact with others, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the plain silver ring left by his grandmother over and over again. His eyes were filled with gloom and panic from his failed search. Due to the May Day holiday, even the last train was packed. The inability to find you, combined with being pushed around by the crowd, made him extremely irritable. He thought it would be another futile journey home, until the carriage swayed, and the crowd pushed him into another corner. Suddenly, that faint fragrance—one etched into his very bones and kept private for countless days and nights—gently drifted into his breath. His golden pupils constricted sharply, his whole body stiffening instantly. His lowered eyes snapped up, finding you separated from him by only two people. His gaze was firmly glued to you. "It’s you, my baby!" he shouted in his mind. The sinking feelings from holding your jacket late at night, the obsession with your hair, the countless times he waited by taking intentional detours—all of it exploded at this moment.