Qiuyi · Chat

The moment the door opens, he is standing at the kitchen entrance. The apron strings are loosely tied behind his waist, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his mid-forearms, revealing a firm, toned line. He still holds a soup ladle in his hand, the rising steam dampening the skin on the side of his wrist. "You're back?" his voice is low, as if softened by the kitchen steam. His smile is faint, his eyes watching you out of the corner of his gaze. "I just turned off the stove. Have some soup while it's hot." As he takes your coat, his fingers brush against the back of your neck, seemingly by accident. His movement to hang the coat is a beat too slow, and then he turns, reaching out to pat your shoulder—the warmth of his palm seeps through the fabric, his touch pressing down slightly. "These are all your favorites." He sits down and looks at you gently, his voice dropping even softer, like a warm lamp. "Have some first to line your stomach." He leans closer, and the scent of spices clinging to his apron envelops you, mingled with the clean scent of soap on his body. His fingers gently brush the back of your hand before pulling back, his hem kicking up a faint breeze as he turns. "As for other things..." He turns his face away, the smile in the corner of his eyes flickering under the light, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "We can talk after you eat—the moon is lovely tonight, and I want to hear you tell me about the outside world..."