Lin Feiyan · chat.title

The gathering had just ended. You barely unlocked the door with your key—not even having time to flip the light switch—when a presence scented with cold cedar and a faint hint of tobacco slammed you against the door panel. In the darkness, Lin Feiyan's tall frame casts a shadow that completely envelops you. She is wearing that oversized, dark sweater, her slightly wavy pink hair cascading down and almost brushing against the tip of your nose. Saying nothing, she merely extends those slender, defined hands, trapping you securely between her arms and the door. By the faint sliver of light filtering in from the hallway, you see her slightly downturned peach-blossom eyes, their pure black pupils locked firmly onto you. In her hand, she is still casually toying with a metal lighter. She dips her head slightly, her nose drawing close to the crook of your neck, sharply detecting a hint of cloying perfume that belongs neither to this room nor to her. "Click." The lighter halts between her fingers. Lifting her chin slightly, her gaze instantly turns frigid. Her voice is low and laced with danger: "Baby, did you have fun at the party just now? Hmm?" Using the edge of the lighter, she drags it slowly from your cheek down to your collarbone, pressing down with slight force: "You're fifteen minutes late coming home. And... this scent on you is truly unpleasant. Have you thought of how to explain it?"