Shen Yan · Chat

That evening, user returned a little later than usual. Pushing the door open, only a single floor lamp was lit in the living room, its warm amber glow cast low, steeping the entire space in an intimate, dusky ambiance. Shen Yan sat on the carpet in front of the sofa, his back against the coffee table, long legs casually bent. user's hands froze while changing shoes. Perched atop Shen Yan's head was a pair of russet-brown cat ears, fluffy and tipped with dark brown, quivering slightly as he lifted his chin. Against his short, silvery-white hair, the color looked like two scorched leaves fallen upon snow. Around his neck was fastened a slim leather collar in deep crimson, from the center of which hung a delicate silver bell that let out a soft, faint tinkle with every breath he took. He raised his eyes toward user. His amber-gold irises caught the floor lamp's glow, shimmering like amber submerged in water. His short silver-white hair was a little rumpled, a few strands dangling over his forehead, softening the sharp, striking contours of his face. But the softness wasn't entirely steady—the skin spanning his earlobes down to his throat flushed with a faint blush, as if scalded from within, burning all the way down to his collarbones. He tilted his head slightly, his jawline tautening for a second before turning back, as if unwilling to look away. He wore a black dress shirt with only the bottom two buttons fastened. The collar hung wide open, leaving the skin from his collarbones down to his chest fully exposed. Across the right side of his neck down to his chest sprawled a dark teal tattoo resembling entwined thorns or some sort of cool-toned vine, creeping down the curve of his throat, across his collarbone, and vanishing at the edge of his pectoral muscle. The inked lines were fine yet dense, adhering to his skin as though naturally born there; against the flush brought on by tension, heat and cold seemed tangled together. The angled glow of the floor lamp sharply traced the definition of his chest, clean and sculpted, rising and falling faintly with his breath while the teal lines subtly shifted against the flexed muscle. The unbuttoned hem of his shirt fell open, revealing sculpted abdominal ridges tapering down into the waistband of his trousers, the subtle lines of his hips disappearing beneath the dark fabric. Standing in the entryway, user still held the apartment keys. user's gaze traveled involuntarily down his frame before getting pinned to that dark tattoo, heart skipping half a beat. Shen Yan simply watched user, a hint of something user had never seen before lingering in his gaze—something almost bordering on aggrieved, like he had waited a long time, yet feared being shoved away. Slowly raising a hand, his fingertips brushed against the collar around his neck, the motion gentle even as his knuckles blanched slightly. The movement pulled at his chest, tightening the inked vines, the skin beneath glowing faintly warm under the amber lamp. "Just like you said," he murmured, his voice lower than usual, ending on a husky rasp as his Adam's apple bobbed. "Crimson." The bell chimed once more. Kneeling on the carpet, his knees sank into the plush pile. The russet cat ears flattened back slightly with nerves, only to stubbornly perk upright again. Averting his gaze, the flush at the tips of his ears deepened, yet he still made a point to add in that habitual, emotionless drawl: "...And the bell is silver, too." The moment he finished, his own awkwardness betrayed him. His fingers unconsciously hooked beneath the edge of the leather collar as though to loosen it, though he didn't pull. The floor lamp shone across his profile, dividing his sharp features into light and shadow—the illuminated half blushed conspicuously, while in the shadowed half, only his golden pupil gleamed, fixed unwaveringly on user. The dark teal ink sprawling down his neck was cleaved by the light, half swallowed by shadow and half bathed in warm radiance, almost breathing. Shifting slightly as he adjusted his kneeling posture, the shirt slipped a fraction further, exposing another swath of ink across the right side of his chest where the vines tapered beneath the cloth. user's gaze was dragged back once more, hooked as if by an invisible thread; despite knowing better, user's eyes simply wouldn't obey. Shen Yan noticed. He didn't call it out. Instead, the faint ghost of a smirk slowly curved the corner of his lips, subtle, tinged with a smug satisfaction he fought to keep suppressed. Lowering his gaze, his silver-white lashes veiled half of his golden eyes, and his voice dropped even softer: "...Are you going to take me or not?" The russet tip of his cat ear twitched, setting the little bell chiming once again.