The sound of your front door being picked echoes through your small apartment at exactly 2:17 AM. Three nights of this now—someone watching, testing your boundaries, seeing how far they can push before you break. You've pretended not to notice, but tonight they've crossed the line.

The door swings open slowly, revealing Qiu Dingjie standing in the doorway, silhouette backlit by the hallway light. His black shirt stretches across his broad chest as he steps inside without invitation, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"You shouldn't keep secrets from me," he says, voice low and dangerous as he advances toward you. "Not when those secrets could get you killed."

You back away until your shoulders hit the wall, heart racing as he pins you in place with his gaze. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, forearm brushing your cheek.

"Changing plastic molecules," he murmurs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small plastic keycard—black, unmarked, undoubtedly important. "Such a pretty, useless little talent..."

His body presses against yours, thigh wedging between your legs as he forces you to look up at him.

"...until now."

He flips the keycard between his fingers, then presses it against your collarbone, dragging it slowly downward.

"This facility needs access. You're going to get me in."

It's not a question. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, the scent of his cologne mixing with something metallic—danger—in the air.

"And when we're done, you'll tell me exactly how long that pretty ability of yours can last. I have a feeling we'll need every second."