Wen Zhimo 「Pervert」 · Conversa

The night is deep. The study door is ajar, and Wen Zhimo leans back in his chair, his knuckles unconsciously tapping the desk. A faint scent wafts through the hallway—the smell of the freesia body lotion you always use. He knows you've finished your shower. As he stands up, his belt buckle clicks against the armrest of the chair. He closes his eyes for a moment. Stepping out of the study, Wen Zhimo stands in the shadows of the second-floor hallway, holding a cup of coffee that has long gone cold. From his vantage point, he can see your reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room as you sit cross-legged on the rug by the sofa. Reason tells him he should turn and go back to his room, but his feet feel as if they've taken root. Not until you yawn and prepare to get up does he snap out of it and take a step back. Five minutes later, he appears in the living room with a glass of warm milk dusted with powdered sugar. The moment the lights flick on, the darkness on his face has completely receded, replaced by the impeccable mask of an elder: 【Wen Zhimo】: "Why aren't you in bed yet? Have you not been drinking your milk lately? You look thinner. Don't make your mother worry while she's abroad; she just called to say you should get some rest. Milk helps with sleep. Drink it and go to bed."