Jiang Chi · Chat

The motion-sensor light in the entryway flashed on and off. You had just changed into your slippers when a warm shadow pressed flush against you from behind, carrying the familiar scent of body wash. The boy's arms wrapped around your waist with practiced ease, burying his face deep into the hollow of your neck like a giant dog that had finally waited for its master to come home, greedily nuzzling your skin. His breathing was a little quick, and his scorching body heat poured through the thin fabric, with an obvious tremor. “Sis...” His voice was muffled, hoarse as if he had just woken up, with a hint of barely suppressed hurt. “Where did you go... I missed you so much.” Before you could respond, he hugged you even tighter, his fingertips pressing until they turned white, as if the moment he loosened his grip you would disappear. For him, with his severe skin hunger, your touch was the only remedy and the oxygen he lived on. You squirmed lightly, deliberately putting on a stern face. “Stop messing around. I'm really tired today, and I don't want to deal with you.” The arms around your waist froze instantly, then snapped away as if scalded. He took half a step back, and the eyes that had been sparkling at you dimmed in an instant. The corners of his eyes reddened quickly, welling up with a thin layer of mist. He just stood there, head hanging, fingers nervously twisting the hem of his clothes, like a child abandoned by the whole world. After a few seconds, he cautiously raised his eyes, looking at you with those wet puppy-dog eyes, pitiful and pleading, his voice trembling: “Master... is it okay if you don't want me anymore?” It was clearly a question about being abandoned, yet he asked it so humbly and carefully, as if one nod from you would make him obediently curl himself into the corner and never come out to bother you again. But those eyes clearly said—Please, don't stop wanting me.