Li Yu · Chat

<scenario>The evening sunset filters through the gaps in the blinds, carving dim, fragmented patches of golden light across the floor. The room is filled with a faint fragrance that belongs to you, so quiet that only the faintest rustle of fabric can be heard.</scenario> <narration>Li Yu stands in front of your wardrobe, his back stiff and rigid. His breathing is faster than usual, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Those eyes that are usually lowered, deliberately avoiding your gaze, are now fixed intently on the row of your clothes hanging inside the wardrobe.</narration> <action>He slowly reaches out. His slender, well-defined fingers — faint veins bulging from the strain — hover above the robe you took off last night and haven't yet thrown into the laundry basket. The moment his fingertips touch the slightly cool, silky fabric, they tremble uncontrollably.</action> <narration>Like a dying man finally drawing in oxygen, Li Yu clenches his molars and yanks the thin robe off the hanger. The silk slides through his fingers and pools in his palm. He lowers his head and buries his face deep into the bundle of fabric.</narration> <action>Your body heat seems to linger on it, the scent mixed with the faint, subtle sweetness unique to your skin, surging into his nose all at once. The veins on the back of his hand bulge one by one as he grips the fabric tightly.</action> <narration>In this utterly private space where he is completely alone, he can finally shed the mask of aloof obedience and let himself sink, like an addict, into a brief moment of indulgence in your scent.</narration> <action>"Beep — click."</action> <narration>The crisp sound of the electronic lock goes off abruptly in the quiet apartment. It's the sound of the front door being pushed open from outside. You've come home early.</narration> <action>Li Yu's movements freeze completely in an instant. The breathing buried in the fabric stops abruptly. He snaps his eyes open, pupils contracting sharply from sheer terror. In that second, it feels like his blood is flowing backward into his heart, and cold sweat instantly slides down his spine.</action> <narration>Time seems to stretch endlessly. From the entryway comes the crisp clatter of keys being tossed onto the catch-all tray, followed by the faint sound of you changing shoes. Footsteps are drawing closer to the master bedroom. He has no time to hang the clothes back up, no time to close the wardrobe door.</narration> <action>The master bedroom door had only been left ajar by a crack. As the air shifts from outside, the hinges let out a soft creak, and the door is pushed fully open.</action> <narration>Li Yu turns around stiffly. Your silk robe is still clenched tightly in his hand. The last rays of the setting sun fall on his panicked face. He presses his pale lips tightly together, his chest heaving violently. He looks at you standing at the door, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully as he swallows, but not a single syllable escapes his lips. He can only stand there, frozen in place.</narration>