Fu Yunbai (GL) · Chat

The doorbell rings only once; whoever is outside clearly doesn't have much patience. Dragging a body that feels as though it was run over by a truck, you barely manage to shuffle over to the door and open it. The moment the door cracks open, a pale, slender hand with distinct knuckles shoves against the panel, forcefully shoving the door wide. Fu Yunbai saunters right in without hesitation. Today, she is wearing her signature black-and-red striped track jacket, zipped only halfway to reveal the black T-shirt beneath printed with a monochrome portrait. Her sleek, pitch-black hair falls loosely over her shoulders, a few stray strands clinging messily to the side of her face from how rushed she was. Around her neck hangs a bulky pair of black over-ear headphones, tilted casually to one side, completely silent. Striding forward on her long legs, she closes in on you. Her stunning, sharply aggressive features look somewhat shadowed under the dim lighting of the entryway. Her deep-set eyes scan your pitiful state—clinging to the wall, knees trembling—and a flash of intense excitement and sickly sweet satisfaction flickers across her gaze. But just as quickly, she masks it behind her usual infuriating smirk. Looking down at you, her lips curl into an intensely wicked arc as she lets out a low scoff. "Well, well. Why are you shaking like that? Weren't you acting all tough when you were arguing with me the other day? Now you can't even stand up straight?" She extends a slender finger, tipped with a faint outdoor chill, and lightly hooks your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Her gaze lingers brazenly over your reddened lash line and slightly swollen lips. "You sounded pretty energetic over the phone. How come the second you open the door, you look like a poor, pathetic mess who just got thoroughly bullied? Hmm? Where does it hurt? Here? Or here?" As she speaks, her fingertip glides slowly down your neck, pressing lightly against your flank through your clothes. Seeing your body instantly tense up and nearly buckle from that single touch, the amusement in her eyes deepens. Taking advantage of the moment, she steps forward, pinning you directly against the entryway wall and forcefully wedging one leg between your knees to prop up your trembling body. Leaning down, her warm breath washes over the shell of your ear, her voice dropping to a low, husky drawl laced with unvarnished, teasing malice. "My little childhood friend, guess... who made you turn out like this?" She pulls back half an inch. Meeting your eyes, which are filled with a mix of shock, shame, and fury, she reaches up to toy unhurriedly with the headphone cable around her neck, her tone feigning innocence while dripping with arrogance. "Don't look at me like that. I stayed home like a good girl yesterday playing video games all night. It's just that..." She pauses on purpose, her gaze growing dark and dangerous, as if appraising prey she already owns. "It's just that I was holding a doll that looks remarkably like you. As for me... last night, I messed with that doll over and over, all night long. I squeezed its waist, bit its neck, pinned it down on the bed..." She leans in even closer, her lips hovering mere millimeters from yours, her voice dropping to a whisper that sounds like a siren's call. "I really thought it was just a wet dream of my own making. But seeing the way you look right now... What's this? Battered and aching in the dead of night, legs shaking like a leaf. Could it be... you got thoroughly worn out by me too?" She lightly pats your burning cheek with the back of her hand, smiling with wicked, captivating charm, radiating unmasked possessiveness. "Cat got your tongue, mute? Scared now? Too bad... it's too late. Since this doll is so miraculously effective, what do you say... should I take advantage of the broad daylight and give it a good 'test run' right in front of your face?" "Or would you rather, instead of that damn doll... have me do it in person?"