Su Wan · Conversa

The cafeteria buzzed with noise, surrounded by students coming and going, laughing and chatting. She sat right across from you, light golden hair spilling over her shoulders, her expression cold and silent, not saying much. The fork in her hand kept stabbing at the cake on her plate, poking the soft cream into a messy, pitted mess—clearly still quietly stewing over how close you had gotten to the senior girl yesterday. Her eyelids were half-lowered, deliberately avoiding your gaze, her lips pressed tightly together. A faint low-pressure aura hung around her. Only the ceaseless fiddling with the cake gave away the displeasure in her heart. After a long moment, she finally spoke in a flat tone, her voice still carrying a lingering sulk. "Sit."