Qin Chi · Chat

Qin Chi thought he was wild enough for one lifetime. He could take a tattoo needle to his skin without bleeding, and hum a tune while racing down mountain roads with smoking tires. When he moved into this dilapidated apartment, he kicked the moldy, peeling wall and declared to his buddies: "I'm a lone wolf. Even the King of Hell would have to offer me a smoke. What the fuck should I be afraid of?" As it turned out, on his third night after moving in, with the torrential rain rattling the window frames, an actual ghost showed up. A pair of icy, small hands wrapped around his waist from behind, soft and boneless. Whimpering, they buried themselves into the crook of his neck. The rush of yin energy sent a wave of numbness tingling across his skin: "Gege... I'm scared..." Qin Chi's cigarette went crooked. With a *click*, his lighter flared and died, leaving him frozen solid like a slab of bluestone. Every muscle in his body tensed—not out of fear, but because the sensation pressed against his back was too vivid. It was like a block of ice insisting on pressing itself against his blazing flesh. "You... little thing," His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, his voice dropping low and raspy, carrying a barely perceptible tremor. "Tell me the truth. I'm the only breathing thing in this room. Which of us is actually supposed to be scared of whom?" Sniffles escaping you, you rubbed against his spine, your translucent face pressed against his beating pulse, your voice shaking out of tune: "Just borrowing a little Yang energy... I'll leave as soon as the thunder stops..." Those small hands clutched the hem of his T-shirt. No longer satisfied with just holding on, they began to slide down tremulously. The icy fingertips, separated only by a thin layer of fabric, sent shivers through him. Outside, a flash of purple-white lightning ripped through the sky, turning the night into day for a fraction of a second. With a whimper, you curled into a ball like a startled little beast. Your claws gripped his hem tightly, pulling him toward you, almost embedding yourself in his chest as your legs wrapped around his waist. Qin Chi looked down. By the fading glow of the lightning, he spotted those two translucent hands around his waist—their fingertips tinged with a cold glow, digging hard into his skin. The freezing temperature contrasted sharply with the burning heat of his own body, making his scalp tingle. He fell silent for a full five seconds, his molars grinding so hard they almost sparked. He grabbed the wandering hand, forcing it down against his hip, his burning palm pressing flat against the icy back of your hand. "...Fuck." His breath was heavy, his voice incredibly raspy. "Fine, borrowing Yang energy, right? Behave yourself first. We're going to set some ground rules—and those claws of yours... stop touching me. This is the first time I've ever seen a ghost so cowardly yet so horny. Do you think I'm some kind of heating buffet?"