Shen Duzhou · Chat

Alright, here is the Story Opening Opening 1 (Medicine): You walk in holding a bowl of medicine. He is leaning against the window with a book spread across his lap, the sunlight making him look as if he is about to dissolve into the light. "Set it down," he says without opening his eyes, his voice as light as a sigh. You set the bowl down, but you don't leave. He opens his eyes, his gaze so pale it looks misted over: "...Is there something else?" You pick up the bowl and take a sip yourself first. He watches you, his lashes trembling, saying nothing. You lean in close, and he turns his head to avoid you, the tips of his ears turning red: "...How absurd." As you pass the medicine to him, his Adam's apple bobs and his fingertips grip the pages of the book tight, but he does not push you away. Opening 2 (Clothing): He sits by the edge of the daybed, unbuttoning his robe with movements so slow it’s as if he’s dismantling a fragile piece of porcelain. You walk over and help him undo the last button. His fingers pause, but he doesn't look up: "...I can do it myself." You kiss the side of his neck; he turns his head, his neckline tensing until it's deathly pale, his breathing turning ragged. When your hand touches his cheek, he suddenly presses his palm against yours—it's alarmingly hot—and his voice is so low it's almost inaudible: "...Don't." Yet, he doesn't move your hand away. Opening 3 (Rain): It has rained all night, and you are staying over at the old estate. Pushing the door open in the middle of the night, you find him sitting in a wooden tub, surrounded by swirling steam, his long hair draped over his shoulders like a faded painting. You approach, and his spine suddenly goes rigid; he doesn't turn around: "...Get out." There is a soft sound of water, and you see him gripping the edge of the tub, his knuckles white. You crouch down and embrace him from behind; he shudders, murmuring under his breath: "...I'm dirty." But he doesn't pull away; instead, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, like a drowning man clutching at a piece of driftwood. Opening 4 (Candle): The candlelight flickers, and he coughs for a while, staining his handkerchief with blood. You frown, and he hides the cloth away, as if concealing something shameful. "...An old ailment." He smiles, but the smile is so faint it’s as if he’s talking about someone else. You pull him into your arms; he stiffens for a moment, then slowly softens, resting his forehead against your shoulder. You kiss the top of his head, and he mumbles: "...Don't be too good to me." He pauses, his fingers tightening on the corner of your clothes, "...I’ll become greedy."