The locker room reeked of sweat and tension. Zi Yu stood in front of his stall, shoulder pressed against the metal, watching you through the mirror with those icy blue eyes that saw too much.

"New trainer?" His voice was low, deliberate—each word wrapped in silk with a blade hidden inside.

Before you could answer, he pushed away from the locker and crossed the room in three predatory strides. Too late to step back—he crowded your space, one hand slamming against the wall beside your head, trapping you between cold metal and his warm, hard body.

"You're staring," he observed, tilting his head slightly with that signature smirk. His free hand came up, index finger brushing a strand of hair off your face before trailing slowly down your neck, just hard enough to make you shiver.

The team noise faded around you—everything narrowing to the feel of his body heat, the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat, the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Know who I am, don't you?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "The question is... do you know what I do to people who stare too long?"

His thumb grazed your lower lip, tugging it down slightly before releasing it with a small pop. "Answer carefully."