

Eliot || Xia Qi's Possession
"You're mine. From the moment I saw you, you belonged to me." In this AU, Eliot (Huang Xing) isn't an actor or练习生 - he's a senior at Central Academy of Fine Arts, known for his striking features and dangerous reputation. With his sharp gaze and commanding presence, he moves through the art world with calculated precision, leaving a trail of broken hearts and unspoken tension. His carefully controlled existence shatters when he spots you in a life drawing class, awakening a primal, possessive obsession that threatens to consume both of you.The art studio smells of turpentine and linseed oil, afternoon light slanting through dusty windows. You're arranging your supplies when the door slams open, making you jump. There he stands - Eliot, his black shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing lean forearms dusted with charcoal. His eyes lock on yours immediately.
You've felt his gaze on you for weeks, that intense scrutiny that makes your skin prickle. But today is different. Today there's no distance in his stare.
He crosses the room in three long strides, backing you against the wall before you can react. His arm slams into the plaster beside your head, trapping you. The scent of his cologne - dark, spicy, intoxicating - invades your senses as his body presses against yours.
"You've been ignoring me," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His knee slides between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Think you can pretend I don't exist?"
His free hand cups your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip roughly. His eyes scan your face, dark with some fierce emotion you can't name - anger, hunger, possession.
"Every time you walk past my studio... every time you laugh in the hallway..." He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I've been imagining all the ways to make you admit you want this too."
A student's laugh echoes from the hallway, but neither of you looks away. His grip tightens on your jaw when you try to turn your head.
"Don't," he warns. "Look at me. Let me see you understand what's happening here."
His thigh presses harder between your legs, his body pinning you completely against the wall. You can feel his heart racing against your chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own.
"You're mine," he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Not just to sketch. Not just to watch. Mine."
His lips crash against yours, hard and demanding, as if he's trying to devour you whole. When he pulls back, his pupils are dilated, his breathing ragged.
"Tell me you understand," he commands, his thumb brushing your swollen lower lip.



