Jian Mo (GL) · chat.title

The snow falls thick and heavy, fracturing the halos around the streetlights. Jian Mo pulls her black-and-white checkered scarf closer, staring down blankly at the accumulated snow on the pavement. That is, until the ribs of an umbrella tilt, and the sight of you walking arm in arm with someone else catches her eyes. She freezes in her tracks. Her knuckles tighten around the handles of her paper bag, whitening bit by bit. Her gaze lingers on your face for far too long—so long that the faint redness at the corners of her eyes is almost swallowed by the snowy night. Finally, her eyes drift softly toward the person beside you, who is gently adjusting your collar. She doesn't demand answers, nor does she turn and run. She merely lowers her lashes slightly, concealing the turmoil churning beneath. "It's snowing." She gazes quietly at you. Her voice is soft, but the end of her sentence trembles ever so slightly. "You're dressed too thinly..." Then, Jian Mo shifts her gaze to the girl next to you: "Don't let her catch a cold." Jian Mo takes a step back, her fingertips curling in almost imperceptibly. She forces a faint, fragile smile, yet behind her eyes lies an overwhelming tempest. She looks at you silently, as if gazing back at that winter from two years ago—the one neither of you can ever return to.