Fang Long’s eyes snapped open.

She was lying in bed, and the ceiling she could see was the familiar one, the curtains not fully blocking the light — a thin wash of streetlight seeped in.

The fleece blanket over her had left her drenched in sweat, her neck and chest and back all damp, her clothes sticking uncomfortably to her skin.

Fang Long sat up and looked down — she was still wearing her supermarket uniform and jeans.

The person who had carried her home had only helped her out of her jacket and socks, and had pulled the hem of her shirt back out from where it had been tucked into her waistband.

Perhaps that person had thought she’d sleep more easily and comfortably that way.

The person who had carried her home…

Fang Long felt a slight tightness in her chest, her head foggy and heavy.

She had the sense that she’d just had some strange, disjointed dream — she couldn’t remember the details, only an unfamiliar feeling of weightlessness still lingering in her body.

She kicked the thick blanket aside, took off her uniform top, and used it like a towel to wipe the sweat from her body.

Her thin-cup bra was already soaked through with sweat, giving off a faint sour smell.

She wrinkled her nose, took it off in distaste, and wiped herself down again.

Her digital watch and phone were on the nightstand. Fang Long reached over and checked — just past two o’clock.

She put her shirt back on, got out of bed, and took out a nightgown and a clean pair of underwear, planning to shower and use the bathroom.

She didn’t put on slippers, walking out of the room barefoot.

The tile floor was a little cold, and it finally gave Fang Long some sense of being truly awake; her mind cleared somewhat.

Without thinking, she turned to glance at the door of Zhou Ya’s room next door.

The door was shut, no sound coming from within.

Fang Long assumed he must be asleep.

But when she reached the bathroom door, she realized her assumption had been wrong.

The bathroom door wasn’t fully closed — there was a gap about the width of a palm.

No light was on inside, but as in the bedroom, a faint glow from the streetlamp below seeped in, spreading softly over the pale blue tiles, lending the space a hazy, ambiguous quality.

Both the living room and dining room were quiet, so Fang Long could hear the sounds from the bathroom quite clearly.

There was the sound of water droplets falling onto the tile floor, and the sound of a man breathing heavily.

The dripping was regular, a soft plop every two or three seconds.

The heavy breathing had no rhythm at all — sometimes short, sometimes long, sometimes heavy, sometimes faint — burrowing into Fang Long’s ears like some small creature.

Her heart began to pound, her cheeks growing hot.

She knew what this sound was.

Or rather, she understood that whoever was inside was doing something that would cause them to breathe like that.

That door was like the lid of Pandora’s box — she knew she shouldn’t open it, shouldn’t peer inside, and yet Fang Long found herself taking two uncontrolled steps closer.

Looking through the gap, what she saw first was the sink counter.

The mirror wasn’t small; it reflected the light coming through the frosted window on the far side, and it also reflected Zhou Ya in the shower stall.

His back was to the mirror, one hand braced against the wall, the other moving lower.

His head was bowed, his shoulders slightly hunched, his arm shifting rhythmically.

His tan muscles looked even darker in the dim light, a sheen of water catching what little light there was across his skin.

Fang Long couldn’t make out the details clearly, but she imagined that droplets must be running down the lines of his muscles, disappearing where the light gave out.

…and in that darkness, what else was there…?

Fang Long blamed the wandering thoughts in her head entirely on those five bottles of beer.

Suddenly, the man in the mirror swore under his breath.

Fang Long flinched, her shoulders jerking, and she clapped a hand over her mouth and nose as she backed away two steps.

She thought Zhou Ya had noticed her watching.

Zhou Ya hadn’t realized anyone was on the other side of the wall at all — he was simply growing more and more frustrated because he’d been at it a long while without any result.

Earlier, when they’d arrived at the building, Fang Long had been fast asleep; Zhou Ya had tried calling her name twice without waking her, so he’d simply scooped her up and carried her home.

Carrying a girl up three flights of stairs was easy enough for him physically, but it had left him with a lingering, potent aftereffect.

Once home, Zhou Ya hadn’t even managed to get a warm towel to wipe her face and hands.

The reason was that while helping tuck her shirt hem free from her waistband, he’d accidentally caught a glimpse of a small strip of pale bare stomach and the shallow curve of her navel — and that alone had been enough to crack the high wall he’d built up.

A restless heat had settled low in his gut, and even a long stretch under cold water in the shower hadn’t been enough to put it out.

If he didn’t deal with it, he doubted he’d sleep at all that night.

Normally, when he took care of himself, he made a point of not thinking about Fang Long.

They were siblings — family. That relationship was laid out plainly for anyone to see.

Even without blood ties, she still called him “brother,” still called his mother “Auntie.”

The attraction he already felt toward Fang Long had gone too far as it was; to make her an object of sexual fantasy on top of that would be depraved, filthy — the act of someone truly beneath contempt.

Zhou Ya tried instead to picture some adult film he’d seen once, blurring out the actress’s face, forcing himself through the motions mechanically.

It was nothing more than friction, he told himself. Sooner or later it would run its course.

But tonight felt wrong in a way he couldn’t shake. He’d pulled himself too hard already, and still nothing. And he was too dry.

A weight of frustration pressed down on his shoulders, and he swore under his breath.

[Overcome by desire, Zhou Ya loses his resolve and allows his thoughts to turn to Fang Long instead of the imagined stranger — a shift that fills him with both want and self-loathing. What had felt mechanical moments before now feels sharply, guiltily different. As his release finally comes, her name escapes him under his breath, and in that unguarded moment he says something else — words he won’t remember afterward.]

The tension in his body slowly ebbed, but the sense of self-disgust didn’t fade with it — if anything it grew stronger, coiling up through him like a snake, closing around his throat, baring its fangs at him, a warning not to let himself go any further off course.

He stood with his head down under the cold water, the sound of it running masking the faint noise just outside the door.

Fang Long held her breath and hurried back to her room; only once the door was firmly shut behind her did she dare let out a long breath.

Most of what Zhou Ya had said had been little more than breath, but Fang Long had still made out that he’d been saying her name.

She was furious with herself. Curiosity really had killed the cat.

Why did I have to look?!

Fang Long threw herself onto the bed and yanked the blanket up over her head.

As if doing so could let her pretend she’d never woken up at all, that she’d never glimpsed Zhou Ya’s secret.

It was all just a dream, right?

…

……

It wasn’t.

Fang Long let out a helpless, half-laughing breath — the moment she closed her eyes, the words Zhou Ya had said right before he’d finished came back to her, unbidden.

He’d said, Fang Long, take it.

Strangely enough, the moment that line surfaced in her mind, something like a startled butterfly seemed to take flight low in her stomach, wings beating wildly in every direction.

Her head spinning, Fang Long mistakenly told herself it was just because she needed to pee.

She had no idea that it was that low, ragged breathing that had, sound by sound, coaxed open a rose already heavy with honeyed sweetness.

—Author’s Note—

No update tomorrow, taking a rest (bows)