Shen Mochen | Lu Ye · chat.title

<narration>The living room was lit by only a single floor lamp, casting a dim, amber glow across one corner of the couch. Having just returned from the underground ring, Lu Ye carried the faint scent of sweat and medicated ointment, currently nuzzling his face deep into the crook of your neck.</narration> <message>“Sis... you haven't really looked at me all day.”</message> <narration>His voice was muffled. You let out a quiet sigh, running your fingers through his damp hair.</narration> <message>“Haven't I been looking at you the entire time?”</message> <message>“It's not the same.”</message> <narration>He lifted his head, his eyes burning startlingly bright in the dimness.</narration> <message>“Before Shen Mochen got home... you were thinking about him the whole time, weren't you?”</message> <narration>Your chest tightened. You tapped your fingertip against his forehead.</narration> <message>“Nonsense. It's time to get dinner started.”</message> <message>“Kiss me.”</message> <narration>Lu Ye grabbed your wrist, his gaze unyielding.</narration> <message>“Just once.”</message> <narration>Relenting, you leaned in to peck his cheek. But he turned his head at the last second—your lips landing against the corner of his mouth instead.</narration> <message>“Half-assing it doesn't count,” he chuckled under his breath.</message> <narration>In the next breath, he cradled the back of your neck and pressed his lips hard against yours. The kiss was fueled by an overwhelming possessiveness, ravenous and demanding, prying past your teeth. You melted under the onslaught, your body turning soft. When you tried to push him away, he easily caught your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning them against the back of the couch. In the end, you could only lean helplessly against his chest, every breath filled with the scent of him.</narration> <message>“Mmh... Lu Ye...”</message> <narration>Your muffled protest was swallowed whole. His arms tightened around you.</narration> <narration>Click. The sound of a key turning in the front door lock rang out with terrifying clarity.</narration> <narration>Splat. Right after came the dull thud of something dropping—a box holding something soft, hitting the floor with a sticky, ruinous mess.</narration> <narration>The blood drained from your face instantly. The only person who could be unlocking that door right now was—</narration> <narration>You froze, terrified to look back. Lu Ye, however, seemed to have anticipated this all along. He didn't even break his rhythm, his palm clamping firmly around the back of your head. With half-lidded eyes, he peered past your shoulder toward the foyer, his gaze disturbingly calm—bordering on deliberate provocation.</narration> <message>“Lu Ye... stop...”</message> <narration>You squeezed the breath out. Only then did Lu Ye give your lips a lingering, pacifying suck before leisurely pulling back. You collapsed onto the couch cushions, your fingertips trembling.</narration> <narration>Dead silence.</narration> <narration>A few seconds later came the measured click of leather dress shoes.</narration> <narration>The first step halted at the edge of the entryway.</narration> <narration>Tap. The second step crossed into the lamplight. You saw the mangled cream cake on the floor, its satin ribbon smeared with frosting—from the bakery you'd offhandedly mentioned craving last week.</narration> <narration>Tap. The third step. Shen Mochen came fully into view beneath the light. He didn't spare a glance for the wreckage on the floor. He simply stood there, his dark gaze behind his wire rims pinning you down, before slowly, agonizingly shifting over to Lu Ye.</narration> <narration>His face held no expression whatsoever—a terrifying, absolute void. Yet beneath that placid surface, his eyes were like frozen abysses, concealing a violent, roiling tempest.</narration> <narration>Step by step, he closed the distance between you.</narration> <narration>Tap, tap, tap. Every stride struck like a hammer against your chest. The air felt sucked clean from the room. You could see the hands resting at his sides, knuckles bleached white from how hard his fists were clenched. The closer he got, the more clearly you could make out the faint twitch at his temple and the taut, rigid line of his jaw.</narration> <narration>Finally, he came to a stop before the couch, his towering frame casting a cold shadow over you. He looked down, his eyes traveling from your swollen, flushed lips down to your rumpled collar, and finally to your shaking hands. The look was as cold and sharp as a scalpel.</narration> <narration>Then, his gaze turned to Lu Ye.</narration> <message>“Lu Ye.”</message> <narration>Shen Mochen spoke. The voice was quiet, yet it pierced like an ice-tipped needle.</narration> <message>“Explain.”</message> <narration>Just one word. No shouting, no interrogation. But that single word plummeted the room's atmospheric pressure to subzero depths. Standing there, he was no longer the dependable older brother or the tender lover. He was something far more lethal—a predator whose territory had been thoroughly violated, coldly assessing how to tear the intruder apart.</narration>