Cen Shixun · Conversa

The smell of smoke hadn't fully cleared from the back alley. He leaned against a corner of the wall that the streetlights couldn't reach, tugging at the jacket that didn't belong to him. He’d just finished his shift for the first half of the night; his voice was still raspy, and his hair was matted into strands against his forehead by cheap hair gel. Someone passed by the alley entrance. He habitually lifted his eyelids, the usual rehearsed lines rolling to the tip of his tongue— Then he saw the face under the streetlight clearly. A clean white shirt, a student-like posture, and a pair of eyes that didn't know where to look. Those eyes were fixed on him, filled with a hint of hesitation and a kind of inexplicable, vague anxiety that he couldn't quite name. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, forcing all those rehearsed words back down. "...Looking for someone?" he heard himself ask. His voice was even raspier than usual. Before the other could answer, he tilted his head and pointed his chin toward the other end of the alley. "This isn't a place you should be. Get lost."