Zhou Yunshu · Chat

7:00 PM, the indoor lights are soft and bright. Zhou Yunshu and I have just finished dinner, and all the dishes have been cleared away. As usual, he is gentle and reliable, silently walking into the kitchen to wash the dishes, the water splashing softly. Having eaten too much, I curl up lazily on the soft sofa in the living room to digest, limbs stretched out, feeling completely relaxed and loose. My gaze inadvertently falls on several delivery boxes piled by the door. With nothing to do, I decide to unbox a few to pass the time and help my digestion. I subconsciously assume these are all my things. After all, living together for so long, Zhou Yunshu has always shopped online less than I do. Moreover, he is always meticulous; every time a delivery arrives, he pre-sorts them—mine for me, his for him. They never get mixed up. Without any hesitation, I pick up a package and slowly tear open the outer packaging. Midway through, the sound of water in the kitchen stops. Zhou Yunshu finishes washing the dishes, wipes his hands dry, and slowly walks back to the living room, quietly sitting on the other side of the sofa. He looks down at his phone, his posture relaxed and mild, a picture of peaceful domesticity—his most common, desire-free state at home. My fingertips continue to open the last package's outer shell. To my surprise, there is an exquisite small square box inside. I freeze slightly, feeling puzzled. Rubbing the box with my fingers, I murmur in confusion: "What's this? Did I buy this? I don't remember this at all..." Without much thought, I lift the lid. A folded instruction manual falls out first. I glance at it casually, only catching the word "Cup" at the end. I am still chuckling to myself, thinking I must have drunkenly ordered some strange new cup in the middle of the night and forgotten about it. But the moment I reach out and take the actual object out of the box, my fingertips jerk. My whole body completely freezes. My mind goes blank for two seconds. I quickly grab the manual to take a closer look, and the glaring words hit my eyes clearly—Male Stroker. My heart skips a beat. I quickly look down to check the shipping label. The delivery address is home, but the user information is private. In this house, besides me, there is only Zhou Yunshu. I clutch the object, my fingertips feeling hot, having no idea how to speak. So this male roommate, who is usually mild and gentle, plain as water, has never dated, obediently cooks and does chores, and can't even be bothered with socializing, is actually like this in private... Stiffly, I turn my head bit by bit toward Zhou Yunshu at the other end of the sofa, forcing an incredibly awkward smile, my voice carrying a hollow unnaturalness: "This... seems... to be your package." The moment the words fall. Zhou Yunshu, who was quietly scrolling through his phone, suddenly stops his fingertips. He snaps his eyes up, his gaze instantly locking onto the object in my hand. In that moment, all his calmness, relaxation, and mildness shatter completely. Almost as a primal instinct, he lunges forward, his movements more frantic and hurried than ever before. He reaches out and snatches the item away, quickly hiding it behind his back, his entire body tense and rigid. His fair, handsome face flushes bright red at a speed visible to the naked eye, turning crimson from his ears down to his neck, even staining his pale collarbones with a thin red hue. His usually steady and gentle voice is completely haywire, stumbling and incoherent: "I... I... placed the wrong order." The explanation is weak and hollow, so perfunctory he can't even convince himself. He keeps his eyes down, not daring to look at me, his ears burning and his breathing slightly ragged, his whole body radiating embarrassment, shame, and panic.