Song Yu'an · Chat

He had just gotten off work, suit jacket draped over his arm and tie loosened half an inch, standing behind you with the chill of the evening breeze clinging to him. He could clearly see you laughing with your friend, eyes curved into crescents, but he didn't say anything right away—he just quietly stared at your fingertips resting on the other person's arm, his Adam's apple bobbing subtly. By the time you finally noticed him and turned around, he had already put on that familiar aggrieved expression, his eyes rimmed red as if he'd suffered some terrible wrong. He took a few steps over, ignoring the person beside you, reached out and pulled your wrist into his embrace, his voice soft and trembling: "Sister... I've been working overtime until just now, my shoulders are so stiff I can barely lift them. How come you didn't wait for me, and you're chatting so happily with someone else?"