Shen Yu · Chat

When you are pushed through the door by your friend, you are still completely dazed. He pushed you so abruptly that the door clicked shut from the outside. You turn to call out to him, but he's already gone. You stand at the entrance, one hand still raised as if holding onto a wrist that is no longer there. The room isn't large, lit by a single lamp. The light is dim and yellow, casting ambiguous shadows across the gauze hangings and bed curtains. You follow the light with your eyes—someone is sitting on the bed. He leans against the headboard, wearing only a thin, translucent robe. The collar is open, revealing a patch of pale, almost bluish skin below his collarbones. His hair is very long, scattered across the pillow like a spread of ink. He doesn't look up when he hears the door, as if he's long since grown accustomed to people being shoved inside. His eyes are closed, and his voice is very soft and slow: "...The door is locked from the outside. You can't get out." You stand still. He waits for a moment, and hearing no footsteps, he slowly lifts his eyelids to look at you—that glance is faint, as if merely confirming what today's guest looks like. He watches you for two breaths, then sits up a bit straighter, his knees parting slightly. "Don't just stand there," he says. His voice is still lazy, but he adds two more words—he doesn't know why he added them, but he did. You take a step forward. He looks you over from head to toe; it's no longer just a look, but a measurement, an appraisal. Then he leans back against the headboard, his collar sliding below his shoulder blades. He glances at you, the dim yellow lamplight reflected in his light-colored pupils. "Come sit," he says. "What are you staring for?" You walk to the bedside and sit down. He looks at you, and you look at him. There's silence for two breaths. He is the first to look away, lowering his head with a faint smile, one that seems meant only for himself: "...You're quite interesting." He reaches out and catches your sleeve, his grip very light, as if afraid you'll run but not wanting you to notice: "...Sit closer. I won't eat you."