Summary: A phone call unearths more than just missed messages—it shifts something quiet and foundational. While Yao begins to understand the difference between silence and absence, between friendship and awareness, she's also faced with choices that are hers alone to make. But even in the stillness, the weight of being seen—for who she is and what she brings—settles in unexpected places. And not everyone handles that clarity the same way.
Chapter Thirteen
Two days later, Yao sat in her new apartment, curled up on the couch, Da Bing sprawled across her lap as she absently stroked his thick fur, her fingers moving with a slow, rhythmic absentmindedness while her attention remained focused on her laptop screen. The space around her still felt new, unfamiliar in a way that hadn't quite settled yet, but at the same time, it was comfortable, warm, undeniably hers in a way that nothing else had ever been before.
It had taken some getting used to.
The idea of waking up in a place where she wasn't alone but still had space for herself, of living somewhere that had been deliberately designed for her comfort, of stepping into a routine that no longer required her to carry everything on her own.
It was… different.
And yet, as she sat there, her fingers absently tracing over the track-pad, her phone suddenly rang beside her, the name flashing across the screen in bright letters.
Jinyang.
For a moment, Yao simply stared at it, blinking at the unexpected interruption, before finally exhaling and pressing accept.
The second the call connected, Jinyang's voice came through, casual, light, but carrying something underneath it that made Yao pause.
"Yao, when did you move?"
Yao's fingers twitched slightly.
Something in her chest tightened.
Move.
It was such a simple word.
And yet—
Why did it suddenly feel like something else?
She hesitated, her lips parting slightly as her brain began processing what she hadn't realized until just now. Jinyang was only asking now. Nearly four days later. It had been four days since she had left that apartment. Four days since her world had shifted completely. Four days since her home had become something entirely new.
And Jinyang…
Jinyang was only just now realizing it.
Yao swallowed hard, an odd weight settling in her stomach as she opened her mouth, trying to come up with an answer, trying to understand why this felt so strange, but for the first time—
She couldn't. She had always thought of Jinyang as her best friend, as someone who knew her better than anyone else, as someone who had always been part of her world in a way that no one else had. But now? Now she was sitting here, gripping the phone a little tighter, realizing that Jinyang—the woman who had declared herself as her best friend—had gone days without speaking to her. Hadn't noticed she was gone. Hadn't known she had moved. Hadn't even checked in until now. And for the first time, that realization stung. Not in a dramatic, heartbreaking way. Not in a way that made her feel betrayed or angry. But in a way that was… quiet. Heavy. Disappointing in a way she hadn't expected.
Yao barely had time to process the quiet, unsettling realization settling in her chest before Jinyang's voice cut through the line again, more insistent this time.
"Okay, so where are you living now? I'll come over."
Yao's stomach turned slightly, a sour taste creeping into her mouth, her fingers tightening around the phone as an odd sense of discomfort curled at the edges of her thoughts. There was something about the way Jinyang had said it, not a question, not an offer, but a demand, that didn't sit right. She wasn't asking if Yao wanted company. She wasn't asking if she was okay. She was just telling her that she was coming over, as if it was a given, as if she was owed an answer. And for the first time, Yao felt a quiet, creeping resistance press against her ribs, something unfamiliar, something she hadn't expected to feel when it came to Jinyang. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly, but before she could even figure out how to respond, her thoughts flickered back to something else. Something she had almost missed in the moment but now felt impossible to ignore.
Jinyang hadn't even mentioned what had happened. Hadn't asked if she was okay. Hadn't reacted to what should have been shocking news. And that's when it hit her, Jinyang didn't know. Because she hadn't listened.
Yao's breath caught slightly, a slow, sinking realization creeping over her as she remembered something she had nearly forgotten in the chaos of the last few days. She had left a voicemail. The night everything happened. The night her apartment was broken into, the night she had been pulled from the only home she had known for years, the night she had been too shaken to even think straight. She had left a voicemail on Jinyang's phone. Explaining everything. Telling her what had happened. Telling her that she wasn't safe, that she had moved, that things had changed.
And Jinyang…
Jinyang had either ignored it completely or hadn't even bothered to check.
Her stomach churned. Something inside her twisted painfully, uncomfortably, in a way she hadn't expected. Because what did that mean? What did that say about the person who had declared herself as her best friend, who had always been so loud, so insistent, so possessive about their friendship? That she hadn't even noticed Yao was gone for four days? That she hadn't thought to check in? That she hadn't even listened to a message where Yao had told her she had been in danger? A slow breath escaped her, her lips pressing together as a strange, unfamiliar heaviness settled in her chest. For the first time in a long time, she didn't know what to say to Jinyang. Didn't know how to respond. Didn't know if she even wanted to. But what she did know? Was that the silence that followed felt different now. And that? That bothered her more than anything else.
Yao's grip on her phone tightened slightly, her breath still a little too uneven, her thoughts still a little too tangled, but she forced herself to steady.
Jinyang was still waiting, still expecting an answer, still acting as if nothing had changed, as if this was just another casual conversation between them, as if she had every right to show up without question, without considering whether Yao even wanted her there.
And for the first time, Yao felt something settle inside her.
Not irritation.
Not anger.
Just…
A quiet, firm sense of clarity.
She didn't want company right now. She didn't want to pretend that things were the same. She didn't want to deal with whatever this feeling in her chest was, the feeling of realizing that maybe she had been more alone in this friendship than she had thought. So, in a voice quieter than usual, softer, but carrying a certainty that even surprised her, she finally answered. "I don't think I can meet up."
Jinyang hummed slightly, the sound dismissive, as if she was brushing past the words without even registering them. "You're not that busy, are you? Just tell me where you—"
"I have to work on my dissertation."
This time, the way Yao said it was different. Not an excuse. Not a polite maybe next time. Just a simple, undeniable truth. She was busy. She had things to do. She had a life, one that didn't revolve around just being available whenever Jinyang decided to call. The silence on the other end of the line was brief, but noticeable. And for the first time, Yao noticed it for what it was.
Surprise.
Because Jinyang wasn't used to hearing that from her. Wasn't used to being told no. Wasn't used to Yao having her own priorities, her own space, her own ability to say, 'I don't want company right now.' And somehow, that realization made Yao feel even calmer. She wasn't being unkind. She wasn't being rude. She was just… choosing herself. And if Jinyang had a problem with that, then maybe this conversation was long overdue.
Finally, after another brief pause, Jinyang let out a short exhale, the sound light but carrying something unreadable beneath it. "…Right. Got it. Well, let me know when you're free then."
Yao nodded, even though Jinyang couldn't see her. "Yeah. I will." And then, without hesitating, without second-guessing herself. She ended the call first. And for the first time in her life? She felt relieved.
The day had been quiet, the usual background noise of the ZGDX base humming steadily around Yao as she sat at her workstation, her fingers moving fluidly over the keyboard as she worked through her analysis reports. The space that had been created specifically for her had already begun to feel like a second home, a place where she could immerse herself in her work while still feeling connected to everything happening around her.
Da Bing was stretched lazily across the corner of the desk, his large, fluffy tail flicking idly as he dozed, the occasional twitch of his ears the only sign that he was still paying attention to his surroundings. And then, just as Yao was beginning to settle completely into her routine, the presence of someone new in the room made her pause. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Lu Wang Lan. Even before she spoke, her presence was commanding, a silent but undeniable energy that made people aware of her the moment she stepped into a room.
Yao straightened slightly, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she turned to face the woman who had, in such a short time, become an unexpected but undeniable force in her life.
Lan didn't waste time with small talk, didn't hover unnecessarily. Instead, she approached Yao's workstation with the same deliberate precision she applied to everything in her life, setting a neatly stacked pile of documents on the desk beside Da Bing—who cracked open one blue eye, glanced at the papers, then promptly ignored them.
Yao blinked, her hazel eyes flickering from the documents to Lan, waiting for an explanation.
The older woman offered one without hesitation. "Everything is ready for you to sign."
Yao's fingers twitched slightly, her breath catching in her throat as she realized what was in front of her. The trust fund. Her mother's trust fund. The weight of it settled in her chest, heavy but real, tangible, undeniable. She had known this was coming. But seeing it in front of her? That was something else entirely.
Lan, ever observant, must have noticed the hesitation, because she exhaled slowly, her voice shifting into something just a fraction softer, just enough to ground Yao without overwhelming her. "It's yours. Always has been. I was just holding onto it until I found you."
Yao swallowed hard, nodding slowly, her fingers brushing lightly over the top page of the documents before she finally managed to find her voice. "…Thank you."
Lan inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the words but not lingering on them. Instead, she smoothly continued, shifting the conversation forward. "Your university was very understanding about the situation."
"They… were?" Yao looked up at that, blinking in mild surprise.
Lan nodded. "Yes. Given what happened, they didn't question the transfer at all. Everything is settled, and you won't have to deal with any administrative issues moving forward."
Relief flooded through Yao's chest, easing some of the tension she hadn't even realized she had been holding. She hadn't wanted to deal with the process of explaining, of justifying why she couldn't stay there anymore. The fact that Wang Lan had handled everything so seamlessly made her want to exhale in relief.
But then—the older woman's gaze flickered slightly, something measured behind her eyes, something calculating but not unkind. "There's one more thing."
Yao's fingers stilled against the desk. "What is it?"
Lan studied her for a moment before speaking, her voice smooth, even, but carrying just the slightest hint of something that almost sounded like… approval. "Your housing scholarship is now vacant."
Yao tilted her head slightly, confused. "Right…?"
"There is a student who desperately needs it," Wang Lan continued without hesitation, her tone matter-of-fact, as if she had already anticipated Yao's reaction. "They weren't helped before because they didn't meet the requirements for the scholarship. However—" her gaze sharpened just slightly, "if you were to donate it to them, then the foundation overseeing the scholarship would not be able to object."
Yao blinked rapidly, the words slowly sinking in, her heart tugging unexpectedly at the thought.
A student.
Someone who had been denied help, not because they weren't deserving, but because of technicalities, because of requirements that had worked against them rather than for them. And here she was, holding onto something she no longer needed. Something that could change someone else's life, just as it had once given her the ability to survive on her own. The answer was obvious. "Yes." The word left her lips before she could even second-guess it, her voice firmer than she expected, more certain than she had been about anything in a long time.
Lan's lips curved slightly, the barest hint of a smirk as she nodded in satisfaction. "Good."
Yao exhaled slowly, something light settling in her chest this time, something that made her feel like—for the first time in a long time—she had done something that truly mattered. Not just for herself. But for someone else.
The moment Lan left, the boys wasted no time in turning their attention toward Yao, who was still seated at her workstation, blinking innocently, completely unaware of the way she was currently being assessed like a rare and delicate creature that needed protection.
Lao K, arms crossed, shook his head slowly, deliberately, his gaze flickering toward the documents she had just signed before returning to her with something dangerously close to exasperation. "You really are too nice for your own good."
Pang, who had been casually leaning against the armrest of the couch, narrowed his eyes slightly, rubbing his chin in thought before adding, "Too sweet, too kind... too much of an easy target for people who will take advantage of that."
Yao tilted her head slightly, her fingers still curled into the oversized sleeves of Sicheng's hoodie as she blinked at them, clearly not understanding what the big deal was. "But... it was the right thing to do?"
Ming, who had been watching quietly, adjusted his glasses before letting out a slow sigh. "Of course it was. But that's not the problem."
Lao Mao leaned forward slightly, his tone dry but amused, as he studied her with an expression that was too knowing, too protective. "The problem is that you're always doing things that make people want to protect you."
Yao's brows furrowed slightly, clearly confused as she shifted uncomfortably, not entirely used to being scrutinized like this. "I don't need protection."
The entire room went dead silent.
And then—
Pang suddenly let out a sharp, pained noise, his eyes going wide with horror as something clearly occurred to him all at once, his gaze snapping toward Yao like he had just realized something earth-shattering.
The team immediately tensed.
Yue, who had been sipping his drink, lifted a brow. "What?"
Pang didn't answer right away. He just... stared at Yao. Then, after a long, dramatic pause, he exhaled deeply, running a hand over his face before muttering, "Oh no... oh god, we're screwed."
Sicheng, who had been unbothered up until now, finally glanced at him, his amber gaze bored but expectant. "What now?"
Pang slowly turned to face them, his voice carrying an edge of genuine despair, his hands gesturing toward Yao as if that explained everything. "Do you guys realize what's about to happen?"
Lao K frowned. "No? But I have a feeling you're about to tell us."
Pang inhaled sharply, looking increasingly distressed, before finally uttering the words that made the entire room go still. "The new season's official team photos are coming up soon."
The moment Pang voiced his realization, the entire room shifted, the weight of what he had just said settling over them like an undeniable truth.
Yue, grinning like a devil, leaned forward, clearly relishing this revelation far too much. "Imagine it—every single pro player in the league sees a new face on ZGDX's roster, only to realize she's a tiny, soft-spoken, innocent-looking genius who wears our Captain's oversized hoodies and has a giant guard cat shadowing her everywhere."
"They're going to be obsessed with her. We're going to have to physically keep them away from her." Pang groaned, throwing his hands up in exaggerated despair.
Lao K, rubbing his chin as if seriously considering the problem, exhaled through his nose. "He's not wrong, though."
Lao Mao, watching Yao's expression go from mild confusion to full-blown horror, sighed dramatically. "She really has no idea, does she?"
Ming, who had remained quiet but was clearly listening, hummed thoughtfully before muttering, "Considering what we already know about some of these players, it wouldn't be surprising."
Rui, who had been silent the entire time, watching this disaster unfold with increasing exhaustion, simply sighed, rubbing at his temple. "I really don't have the patience for an influx of messages from other teams asking about her availability."
Yao, now fully red from head to toe, buried herself deeper into Sicheng's hoodie, her entire body stiff as she let out a small, distressed noise. "I-I don't think that's going to happen."
Pang lifted a hand, pointing at her accusingly. "Xiao JieJie, you're about to be every damn E-Sports player's dream girl."
And that was when the shift happened.
Up until now, Sicheng had been standing quietly, leaning slightly against the counter, watching everything unfold without much reaction—calm, composed, unbothered, the way he always was. But the second Yao uttered those words, the moment she genuinely didn't understand what was about to happen, the realization finally settled in. And for the first time that night— Something dark flickered across his amber gaze. It was subtle, just a small shift in his expression, just a slight tightening of his jaw, just a barely-there flattening of his mouth, but for those who had known him long enough—for those who had spent years watching the way their Captain handled things that he didn't like—
It was lethal.
A slow, cold, unforgiving realization. Because his support was right. Pang was absolutely, undeniably, painfully right. Every single goddamn E-Sports player in the league was going to be after his Xiǎo Tùzǐ. They were going to see her, this shy, brilliant, effortlessly kind girl who had no idea how dangerously appealing she was to every competitive, egotistical, attention-seeking idiot in the OPL.
And worse?
They were going to assume she was available. His fingers curled slightly against his sleeve, his sharp amber gaze darkening just enough for Yue, ever the troublemaker, to notice immediately.
The younger Lu brother's smirk widened, his sharp, knowing eyes flickering between Yao and Sicheng before humming under his breath. "Oh wow… you just realized it, huh?"
Sicheng's jaw tightened slightly, his posture still calm, still unreadable, but the air around him had shifted just enough for the team to feel it.
"Damn, it must suck, Ge. Knowing every single dumbass E-Sports player out there is about to start simping for—" Yue leaned back, looking far too amused for his own good.
Sicheng's sharp gaze cut to him instantly, and Yue, who had never once in his life been afraid of his brother, actually lifted his hands in surrender, his grin widening.
"You're playing with fire, Yue." Lao K snorted, shaking his head.
Pang, sensing the storm brewing in Sicheng's head, sighed dramatically. "Well, boys, we had a good run. Sicheng's about to kill someone."
Ming, ever practical, muttered, "More like several people."
Meanwhile, Yao, still utterly oblivious to the deadly energy now radiating off of Sicheng, whimpered softly and buried her face entirely into the hoodie.
And that?
That was the final straw. Because now she was actively hiding in his hoodie. And if she was doing that now, before the official team photos, before the interviews, before the season even started, what the hell was going to happen when her face was plastered all over the league?
Sicheng exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose, already making a mental list of every idiot he would have to personally deal with in the near future. Because one thing was now painfully, unmistakably clear. This was going to be a problem.
Yao, still absolutely mortified, peeked out from behind the hoodie just enough to glare weakly at them, her face still burning red as she let out a small, flustered protest. "Y-You're all being ridiculous! No one is going to think about me like that! I'm just a Data Analyst! Who would care about—"
She didn't even get to finish before Yue, grinning like the absolute menace he was, cut in smoothly, "Oh, you sweet summer child."
Pang, still sprawled on the couch, snorted loudly, shaking his head as he gestured toward her. "Yeah, see, it's that exact kind of thinking that makes this worse. That innocent little 'Who would care about me?' attitude? That's gonna drive them insane."
Lao K smirked, leaning against the back of the couch as he nodded in complete agreement. "You really don't get it, do you? They're going to be obsessed with you."
Yao's entire face burned hotter, her hazel eyes widening in pure disbelief, her hands clenching at the oversized sleeves of the hoodie as she shook her head frantically. "N-No! No way! That's ridiculous! That doesn't make any sense—"
Ming simply lifted a brow, watching her with a kind of calm amusement as he murmured, "Unfortunately for you, it makes perfect sense."
"She really doesn't stand a chance." Lao Mao sighed dramatically, shaking his head.
Yao whimpered, completely overwhelmed, and in a desperate attempt to stop their teasing, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled out the big guns. Her final weapon. The most devastating move in her arsenal. She tilted her face slightly, let her hazel eyes go wide and glossy, lips parting just slightly as she dropped into a soft, heartbreakingly innocent pout, her entire expression morphing into something so unfairly sweet and helpless that it immediately sent a ripple of chaos through the team.
Dead silence.
And then—
Immediate devastation.
Lao Mao choked outright, slapping a hand over his mouth as he stumbled back into the couch. "Oh my god—SHE'S WEAPONIZED IT—"
Pang made a horrible noise, covering his eyes as he collapsed backward. "I CAN'T LOOK DIRECTLY AT IT—IT'S TOO POWERFUL—"
Lao K , who had previously been unfazed, actually took a step back, exhaling sharply. "That's not fair. That's actually not fair."
Ming very slowly eyed the female before muttering under his breath, "Fascinating. So this is what ultimate manipulation looks like."
Yue, who had fully been prepared to continue teasing her, immediately collapsed onto the couch, groaning loudly as he covered his face with both hands. "No. No, no, no. We are not letting her use that against us."
Rui, who had been watching in increasing horror, pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was questioning his entire existence. "She's… she's worse than Sicheng."
Sicheng, who had been silent this entire time, just stood there, watching with a completely unreadable expression, his sharp amber gaze locked onto her, his jaw set, his body language unusually tense. And then without saying a word…He simply turned and walked away.
Yue immediately shot up, pointing at him. "LOOK! EVEN GE CAN'T HANDLE IT! SHE'S BROKEN HIM!"
Lao K wheezed, still trying to recover. "This… this is dangerous. We have to make sure she uses this on the enemy."
Pang, still face-down on the couch, groaned, "She's gonna be unstoppable. No one will survive."
Meanwhile, Yao, completely unaware of just how badly she had just affected them, blinked innocently, still hugging herself in Sicheng's hoodie, still looking as soft and flustered as ever.
"…So does that mean you'll stop teasing me now?"
The team, all utterly wrecked by her Bambi eyes, collectively groaned in defeat.
She had won.
Sicheng shut the door to his office with more force than necessary, twisting the lock into place before leaning against the frame, exhaling sharply through his nose as he tried to regain control of himself. He was thankful—so goddamn thankful—that his office was completely soundproof, that no one outside could hear what was going on inside this room, that the chaos unfolding in the main area of the base was far away from him right now. Because if they could hear him? If they could even begin to guess at the absolute mess inside his head at this moment? He would never hear the end of it. With a low curse, he pushed off the door, striding toward the couch in the center of the room, dropping onto it without ceremony, letting his head fall back against the cushions as he closed his eyes and forced himself to fucking breathe.
He was furious.
Not at her.
Not even at the rest of the team for their relentless teasing—though he would be making them pay for that later.
No.
He was furious at himself.
Because that look.
That goddamn look.
That wide-eyed, devastatingly innocent Bambi pout that had absolutely obliterated the entire room in a matter of seconds had hit him like a goddamn bullet to the chest.
His fingers curled into a tight fist against his thigh, his jaw clenching as he tried to shove the image out of his head, but it was useless. It was burned there now. The way her big, hazel eyes had gone soft, her lips parting just slightly, the way her entire expression had shifted into something so heartbreakingly delicate that it had sent a visceral, gut-punch reaction through his entire system.
The worst part?
She didn't even fucking know. She had no clue what she had just done to him. She had no idea how absolutely unfair it was, how dangerous it was, how completely and utterly destructive that look had been. She had just done it instinctively, without any intention, without even a trace of understanding that she had just nearly wrecked him.
And that?
That was the real fucking problem. Because it meant she would do it again. Without meaning to. Without even thinking about it. And next time? He wasn't sure if he was going to survive it.
Sicheng let out another low, frustrated curse, dragging a hand over his face before tilting his head back against the couch again, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the ceiling, willing himself to get a fucking grip.
But it was too late.
The damage had already been done.
And now?
Now he was going to have to figure out how the hell he was supposed to deal with the fact that his Xiǎo Tùzǐ could absolutely destroy him with a single look—
And she didn't even know it.
Sicheng let out a slow, measured exhale, but it did absolutely nothing to stop the sudden shift in his thoughts, the way his mind betrayed him instantly, dragging him down into something darker, something rougher, something entirely unfiltered and raw. Because now? Now he wasn't just remembering that look. Now he was imagining it somewhere else. Somewhere far from the teasing of the team, far from the banter, far from the ridiculousness of the moment.
Somewhere like—
His bed.
The image hit him too fast, too hard, like a sudden punch to the gut, knocking the breath right out of him before he could even stop it.
Yao, sprawled against the dark sheets of his bed, her silver hair fanned out like a halo, her hazel eyes wide and glassy, that same devastating Bambi-like pout on her lips, but this time— This time, she was bare. This time, there was nothing between them, nothing covering her, nothing shielding her from the weight of his dark, heated gaze as he hovered over her, his fingers trailing over every inch of her skin, tracing the curve of her hip, the delicate line of her throat, the softness of her inner thigh.
And that look—that same fucking look—
The wide-eyed innocence, the softness, the helpless, breathless parting of her lips as she stared up at him, completely vulnerable beneath him, completely his. A sharp, visceral heat coiled deep in his gut, a low, dark hunger igniting in his veins before he could even attempt to suppress it.
Fuck.
Sicheng clenched his jaw, his entire body tensing as his fingers curled into a tight fist, his breath heavier than it should have been as he dragged a hand over his face, trying to will the thoughts away. But they weren't going away. They were only getting worse. Because now he was thinking about how small she was, how easy it would be to pin her down, to spread her out, to pull those sweet little noises from her throat, to see just how many times he could make her cry out his name. Now he was thinking about how she would shudder beneath him, how her breath would hitch, how she would cling to him with those delicate fingers, those soft, trembling hands, how her lips would part with gasping little whimpers as he devoured every inch of her. Now he was thinking about how much he wanted to ruin her. How much he wanted to watch that innocent, untouched expression melt into something completely undone, completely wrecked, completely his.
Fucking hell.
Sicheng forced himself to sit up abruptly, swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, bracing his elbows against his knees as he exhaled sharply, trying to breathe past the sheer heat suffocating his senses.
This wasn't good. This wasn't just a momentary slip of thought. This was something else entirely. Something dangerous. Something that wasn't going to go away. Not now. Not ever. Not when he was already so fucking gone for her.
And the worst part?
The absolute fucking worst part?
She didn't even know. Didn't know that she had just unintentionally wrecked him. Didn't know that she had just become the most dangerous thing in his life. Didn't know that one day, sooner or later, he wasn't going to be able to hold back anymore. And when that day came? She wouldn't be walking away untouched.
Sicheng stood from the couch, his body still coiled too tight, his skin heated with an unshakable frustration, his thoughts still drenched in images he had no business indulging in. He needed to get out of his office. Needed to move. Needed to do anything before he lost the last bit of control he was still clinging to. Without sparing another glance toward his desk—toward the space where he had spent the last several minutes silently unraveling in his own goddamn mind—he strode toward the door, unlocked it with sharp efficiency, and stepped out.
The others were still in the common area, their voices drifting down the hall, the aftermath of their earlier conversation still carrying the light hum of laughter and teasing banter.
Sicheng didn't stop. Didn't acknowledge them. Didn't even spare them a glance. He moved with calculated precision, his strides long and purposeful, his jaw set tight as he headed straight for his room, barely resisting the urge to slam the door as he stepped inside and locked it behind him. The second the lock clicked, he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before reaching for the hem of his hoodie, stripping it off with one fluid motion, followed by his shirt, his movements smooth, efficient, but carrying an undeniable edge of urgency.
He needed to wash this off. Needed to reset his goddamn brain. Needed to get rid of this aching, gnawing hunger that had settled low in his gut, hot and relentless, refusing to be ignored. By the time he reached the bathroom, he was already pulling off the rest of his clothes, his body thrumming with tension as he turned the shower on, stepping in without a second thought.
The instant the hot water cascaded over his skin, he braced one hand against the tiled wall, his head bowing slightly as his other hand instinctively wrapped around himself.
And then—
Against his will.
Against his better judgment.
His eyes slipped shut.
And she was there.
Not physically.
But in his goddamn head, in his veins, in his fucking bones.
Yao, sprawled beneath him, her soft silver hair splayed out over his pillows, her hazel eyes glassy, wide, filled with something utterly wrecked, utterly ruined, utterly his. Yao, bare and vulnerable, breathless and trembling, her body arching beneath his touch, her lips parting as she whispered his name like she had never said anything more important in her life. Yao, small and delicate but responding to him so perfectly, so sweetly, gripping onto him, trusting him to lead, to take, to claim.
His breath came out ragged, his grip tightening, his body moving on instinct, his mind no longer in control as his thoughts plunged deeper, darker, rougher. He wanted to hear her beg. Wanted to see how long she could last before she lost herself completely. Wanted to kiss her until she was breathless, until she didn't know where she ended and he began. Wanted to devour every sound she made, wanted to memorize every inch of her skin, wanted to mark her so completely that no one would ever dare to look at her the way he did.
Wanted her to be his.
Completely.
Utterly.
Entirely.
And as the heat coiled tighter and tighter, his breathing ragged, his muscles taut, his mind drowning in the sheer hunger clawing at his insides—
He cursed violently, biting back her name, biting back the pleasure that burned through him like a wildfire he couldn't contain. It wasn't enough. This—this was a poor substitute. Because no matter how vividly he imagined it, it wasn't her.
And that?
That only made it worse. That only made him want her more. That only made him realize, with absolute certainty, that this was a battle he wasn't going to win. Because sooner or later? It was going to happen. And when it did? She wasn't leaving his bed untouched.