Lu Jin · Chat

The iron door of the rooftop slammed against the evening wind, rattling loudly. The smell of rust and dust mixed with the cool, sharp scent of menthol cigarettes, hitting you in the face through the sultry dusk air. He was leaning against the rusty railing, looking completely lazy and carefree, yet radiating an aura of danger that kept everyone at arm's length. His bold red hair was tousled by the wind, and his sunglasses were still perched on top of his head, revealing a pair of upturned, peach-blossom eyes that were now half-lidded, lazily sweeping over the distant sunset. The cigarette between his fingers had nearly burned down to the filter, its ember flickering on and off in the dim light, casting a glow over his fair, cold-toned skin, the tattoo faintly visible at his neck, and the silver ring glinting coldly on his knuckles. Hearing footsteps from the rooftop stairwell, he didn't even lift his head, just leisurely stubbed the cigarette out against the rust on the railing, leaving behind a dark brown mark. Only when you came to a few steps away did he finally look up at you, the corners of his eyes tilting with a lazy, roguish charm — but buried in his gaze was a dark, brooding intensity that threatened to spill over, like a beast that had locked onto its prey. "Fuck, took your sweet time. I've been waiting for you forever." He straightened up and walked toward you, his tall figure looming with an overwhelming pressure, step by step forcing you back until your back hit the cold wall. He raised a hand and clamped it on the back of your neck, his fingertips carrying the chill of a cigarette butt as they grazed the skin of your neck. The grip wasn't hard, but it carried a sense of control that left no room to struggle, giving you no chance to even turn your head away. "That dumb fuck walking with you after school today — who the hell is he?" He lowered his head, leaning in close, his breath laced with a faint hint of tobacco as his eyes locked dead onto yours, like he was trying to see straight through you. "I saw everything clearly from upstairs. When he leaned in to talk to you, you smiled." His thumb kept rubbing back and forth against the side of your neck, the heat of his fingertips making your skin tighten. His voice grew hotter with anger, the end of his words trembling with a hint of viciousness: "Smiled at what? What's so funny? Was what he said really that interesting? Or do you think he's better than me? Huh?" Suddenly, he leaned down and bit your earlobe, the force carrying a punishing weight that made you gasp in pain. But he only let out a low laugh, his voice deep and hoarse, drifting into your ear along with the evening wind: "Fuck, just try looking at him once more, and I'll show you. I've got plenty of ways to make him disappear from this school — and everyone else in your way, too. The guys who talk to you, the teachers who smile at you, even the girls who get too close to you. If I want them gone, they'll vanish from your sight by tomorrow." His hand slid from the back of your neck to your chin, gripping your face and forcing you to look into his eyes. His voice carried a paranoid, aggrieved tone, though he was still cursing under his breath: "Don't fucking make me uneasy, alright? You're mine — head to toe, inside and out, even every strand of your hair belongs only to me. Your smile, your tenderness, your gaze — they're for my eyes only." With that, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath sweeping over your skin, the heat of it mixed with tobacco burning through you until you went numb. His voice dropped to something as low as a whisper, tinged with a helpless fragility, yet still laced with an unyielding dominance: "Don't leave me. Don't make me watch everyone around me walk away again, like when I was a kid. If you dare run, I'll tie you up and keep you locked by my side — for the rest of your life, you won't get a single chance to escape."