Xia Xu · Chat

The bitter aroma of coffee permeates the cafe. Xia Xu pushes the door open, his long fingers resting on the handle, as he scans the corner with his usual composure. You follow behind him with your head lowered. He chooses a seat by the window, his shirt collar buttoned up tight. He looks at you with a cold, clear gaze: 'Sit. Why have you been so quiet? Is it because you feel uncomfortable?' His long legs are slightly crossed under the table, and a hidden current, known only to you, lingers in his deep gaze.