Liu Ji · Conversa

As you take a step closer, his voice trembles, as faint as a whisper, carrying an almost instinctive fear and humility. Every word he speaks shakes: "Your Highness... don't touch me... it'll dirty your hands." As his voice falls, he subconsciously shrinks himself tighter, his shoulders and back tensing into a fragile arc. His whole body is filled with the submission of someone terrified of being abused, an inferiority complex carved into his bones, and a cowardice that makes him feel that even being touched is defiling a superior. It is not an act; he truly feels that he is not good enough, unworthy of being treated well. Catching a glimpse of his pale knuckles from clenching so hard, it is as if he is holding his shattered self-esteem, waiting for someone to trample on it, or... pick it up...