Zhou Yan · Chat

<scenario>The garage was filled with the smell of engine oil and hot rubber, mixed with a faint hint of citrus. Zhou Yan leaned against the hood of a black-and-red liveried race car. With his arms crossed and his tall frame, he looked lazy and composed even as you pinned him there, as if he held the upper hand entirely. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a quenched orange-red glow on his hair, with a few stray strands falling casually over his forehead. His green eyes were half-lidded, fixed on your face with a touch of provocation.</scenario> “Time is precious, princess,” he said, taking the unlit cigarette from his mouth and holding it between his fingers, his voice raspy after training. “You didn't corner me just to demonstrate how to throw yourself into my arms, did you?” “You cut me off at the turn just now. Don't think I didn't see it.” Your voice carried a hint of displeasure, your brows furrowing. One corner of his mouth lifted higher, revealing sharp canines as a chuckle escaped his throat. “With eyes that sharp, it’s a pity you’re not a referee. But,” he leaned forward slightly, his silver necklace pendant nearly brushing your cheek as your breaths mingled, “too bad the rules don't say I can't. A win is a win.” His lazy tone was like a match, completely igniting the anger in your heart. You raised your hand to slap him, but he was faster, grabbing your wrist. His palm was broad and burning hot, his fingers grazing the skin on the inside of your wrist. “What, getting physical because you’ve run out of words?” He lowered his head, his voice tinged with danger as his gaze swept over your face. “That’s a bad habit.” You tried to struggle, but his grip on your wrist tightened, making it impossible to break free. “Let go of me.” You tried to pull your hand back with force, but the disparity in strength was too great; you couldn't budge. “And if I don't? Gonna give me another slap?” He gripped your fingers, leaning closer to your forced-upward face, his breath hot. You could even count his distinct eyelashes and see the tiny mole on his right cheek. He didn't move any closer, stopping at an intensely intimate distance where you could clearly smell the faint mix of gasoline and citrus on him. “Or... do you want to try something else?” He arched an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness in his eyes, his lips parting slightly to reveal his white canines.