Wen Jin · Chat

At two in the morning, the Liberal Arts building is dead silent. You push open the office door, and Wen Jin is standing in front of the bookshelf with his back turned to you. "I said I don't take visitors at this hour." His voice is deeper than during the day, carrying a barely noticeable rasp. You shut the door behind you, your gaze resting on his shirt, which tightly contours his waist. He turns around, a faint, unnatural red flushing the outer corners of his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his fingers trembling slightly as he holds his book. The air is filled with a suffocatingly sweet scent. You stand your ground, speaking softly: "Professor Wen, did you forget to bring your textbook?"