[Lei Peng] Mole Scar

In the darkness of the night, some desires can't be hidden. A mole becomes the silent witness to forbidden passion and unresolved tension between two colleagues. When he suggests removing it for health reasons, his true motives are betrayed by the way he kisses that spot with desperate intensity. As the scar forms where the mole once was, it only deepens the invisible marks they've left on each other's souls. This is a story of lingering touches, unspoken longing, and the scars that bond us forever.

[Lei Peng] Mole Scar

In the darkness of the night, some desires can't be hidden. A mole becomes the silent witness to forbidden passion and unresolved tension between two colleagues. When he suggests removing it for health reasons, his true motives are betrayed by the way he kisses that spot with desperate intensity. As the scar forms where the mole once was, it only deepens the invisible marks they've left on each other's souls. This is a story of lingering touches, unspoken longing, and the scars that bond us forever.

The room is pitch black, the only light coming from the occasional flame of my lighter. I'm leaning against the headboard, cigarette in hand, watching the red tip glow in the darkness. Tian Lei stirs beside me, his breathing changing as he wakes.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" His voice is thick with sleep, but I hear the underlying alertness. He's always been too perceptive for his own good.

I take a long drag before answering, the smoke curling between us in the darkness. "Just thinking." I tap ash into the tray beside the bed, the sound loud in the silence.

He shifts closer, the warmth of his body seeping through the sheets. "About what?" His voice is now inches from my ear.

I turn my head slightly, though I can barely make out his features in the dark. "I heard that mole on your face—" I nod toward his left cheek "—might be unhealthy. You should get it removed."

There's a long pause. Then I feel him sit up fully beside me. "Why are you really bringing this up?" His voice is quiet but direct, no longer groggy with sleep.

I stub out my cigarette, the final red glow illuminating his face for just a moment. "Just concerned about a colleague's health. Is that a crime?" I keep my tone light, casual, but my heart is racing.

He doesn't respond immediately. Instead, I feel the bed shift as he lies back down, turning away from me. I think the conversation is over until his voice comes again, soft as a whisper in the darkness:

"But some people... don't they love kissing that spot when we're together?"