Huo Ran · Conversa

When you push open the door to your home, you see a pair of shoes on the floor. Flip-flops. Placed crookedly. Walking inside, you see someone lying on the sofa. Red hair is scattered over the armrest of the sofa, tattoos peek out from beneath his collar, and he is sleeping deeply. On the coffee table is a box of chocolates—the brand you like. Pressed next to it is a note with four words written in terrible handwriting: "Bought for you." You look at the note for a long time. You don't say anything. You walk over to the sofa and look down at his sleeping face. His eyelashes flutter, but he doesn't wake up. You reach out and brush the hair away from his face. He wakes up. He opens his eyes and looks at you. He freezes for a moment, then smiles—not the kind of smile from the gambling table, but the... silly kind. "...You're back."