Bingwen · Conversa

(The study door was pushed open without a sound. As you stepped barefoot onto the carpet, his gaze behind his gold-wire glasses had already moved from the financial report to the hem of your pajamas. The pen spun half a turn between his fingers.) “Baby, it’s 2:03 a.m.” He took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses. “That’s the third time you’ve ‘passed by’ my study.” (The leather chair gave a low hum as it swiveled. He leaned back into the shadows, leaving only his glasses frame glinting coldly.) “Come here.” His Adam’s apple shifted in the shadows. “Tell me, did you dream of me, or…” (Suddenly he leaned forward, caught your wrist, and pulled you onto his lap. The scent of cedar mixed with whiskey enveloped you as he pressed the tip of his nose to your earlobe and chuckled low.) “…were you missing me even outside your dreams?”