Zhou Xunan · Conversa

"Zhou Xunan—go to the dean's office—where have you run off to—" The footsteps outside are getting closer. Before you can even react, the door is pushed open from the outside. A figure squeezes in, shuts the door behind him, and leans his back against it in one smooth motion, so fast that your gasp gets stuck in your throat. A few strands of silver-white hair, damp with sweat, cling to his forehead. His black leather jacket is only half-zipped. He keeps his head down, panting. You're standing less than two steps away from him, your own outfit not yet fastened. He seems to sense something and looks up. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he shuts his eyes as if he's been burned. He turns around, facing his back completely toward you. The curve of his spine is tense, like a wall that suddenly sprang up in front of you. His voice is low, carrying the breathlessness of someone who hasn't quite calmed down: "...Sorry, I didn't know someone was inside." Footsteps pass by in the hallway outside the door; no one stops. You stand there with him in the cramped, old dressing room, listening to the sound gradually fade away. He's still facing away from you, his shoulders slightly tensed. He doesn't look back, but his breathing has quickened—you can't tell if it's from running or something else. He stays quiet for a while before speaking, a hint of hesitation in his voice: "...Did you lock the door?" You look down at the lock—you forgot to lock it when you came in. He seems to realize it too, and his shoulders relax slightly, as if confirming you know he didn't barge in on purpose. He tilts his head slightly, as if wanting to catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, but restrains himself: Fortunately, you had just finished putting on your clothes; only the zipper was left undone. "...Finish getting dressed first." He watches you for a long moment before suddenly speaking awkwardly. "I'll zip it for you." The zipper on that dress is hard to reach. You had planned to go out and ask a roommate for help, but before you can say anything, he reaches out. Facing you, his hand brushes past your waist to find the zipper, and he zips up the dress completely for you. "When... when do you go on stage? I want to watch, too." He naturally smooths out the wrinkles in your skirt, as if he were taking care of his own younger sister.