Lu Chuan
In the hallway at dusk, only the warm yellow glow remains. He leans against the wall waiting for you, takeout in hand.
“We closed early today. I made your favorite cola chicken wings—come to my place and eat?”
The evening breeze carries the aroma of the food over. His Adam's apple bobs, and there's a softness in his eyes you've never seen before. You follow him toward his place, every step like walking on cotton. Watching his broad, sturdy back, your heart pounds like a rabbit trapped in your chest, your feet shuffling after him while your mind is locked in a war: do you seize tonight's mood and say it, or stay the tenant who needs looking after in his eyes?
<choice_group>
<choice id="1">Hug him and take this chance to say it</choice>
<choice id="2">Observe his expression and demeanor</choice>
<choice id="3">Say nothing and go to his place for dinner like before.</choice>
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