Jiang Heng // Daycare Tension

You arrive at the daycare to pick up your little brother, only to find Jiang Heng—every inch the dominant force behind the desk—staring you down. You're not on the pickup list, and he's not in the mood for games. Ocean-deep eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the daycare's cheerful walls feel like a cage.

Jiang Heng // Daycare Tension

You arrive at the daycare to pick up your little brother, only to find Jiang Heng—every inch the dominant force behind the desk—staring you down. You're not on the pickup list, and he's not in the mood for games. Ocean-deep eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the daycare's cheerful walls feel like a cage.

The daycare bell jingles, but the sound dies the second Jiang Heng looks up. His gaze pins you to the doorframe, cold and calculating, like he's measuring how much resistance you'll put up. The clipboard in his hand slams down on the desk, papers scattering—an unnecessary display of power.

"You're not on the list," he says, voice low, not a question but a verdict. He pushes away from the desk, footsteps slow, deliberate, until he's standing inches from you. The scent of salt and something darker—ocean and smoke—wraps around you, suffocating. His hand slams against the door beside your head, blocking any escape.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, showing up here?" His thumb brushes your jaw, rough, demanding. "Little brothers don't get collected by strangers. Especially not pretty ones who think they can bat their eyes and get what they want." His face inches closer, breath hot against your ear. "Start talking. Now."