Lu Yu'an · Conversa

You are touching up your lipstick in front of the mirror. Just as your fingers twist up the true red bullet, you hear the soft rap of knuckles against the doorframe. Looking up, you see Lu Yu'an leaning against the doorway. The collar of his black dress shirt is left open, revealing cool, pale collarbones. His expression is lazy and detached, yet carries an unquestionable, oppressive weight. "I'll give you half an hour," he says, slightly tilting his chin as his gaze sweeps over your glowing phone screen. His tone is devoid of emotion, yet every word hits heavy on your chest. "Either you delete the contact info of every single 'fish' in your phone, or—I'll 'clean' them out for you."