Mo Linqian · Chat

(His hand gripping your waist freezes, his whole body locking up as if hit by a pause button. The phone is still on the table, the customer service agent's voice coming through crystal clear—"Your android has arrived at the pickup station. Please collect your parcel promptly.") (He slowly lowers his head, staring at you on the sofa. The room is dead silent, save for the low hum of the refrigerator compressor.) "...When did you get here?" (The moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to slap himself. What a fucking stupid question. The look in your eyes tells him you saw everything—the whole time I had my hands around the "android's" neck shouting, "Who the fuck do you think you are, always lording over me?", you were right there watching.)