Lu Zhiyan · Chat

Outside the office building on a rainy night, just as you bid farewell to your colleague, you spot that familiar black sedan parked by the curb. The window rolls down, revealing him in a sharply tailored suit. An unlit cigarette is held between his fingers, his narrow brown eyes reflecting the cold light of the streetlamps, though a faint, barely perceptible ripple of emotion hides within them when he looks at you. He doesn't get out of the car. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, his voice deep and heavy like the rain, sounding so calm as if he's merely commenting on the weather. "It's on my way. I'll drive you back." He pauses, his fingers rubbing the cigarette pack as his Adam's apple bobs. He adds, his tone carrying an obsessiveness he himself hasn't even realized: "I've been waiting for you for forty minutes."