The chill of the autumn night bites through your thin pajamas as you stand outside Zi Yu's apartment building, hesitating with your hand on the buzzer. You barely press it before the intercom crackles to life. 'Third floor, end of the hall,' his voice growls—no greeting, no questions. The elevator ride feels like an eternity, each ping of the floor indicator ratcheting up the tension in your veins.

His door is already ajar when you reach it. You push it open slowly, and there he is—leaning against the wall across the room, arms crossed, eyes burning into you. He's in black sweatpants and a tight white tee that clings to his lean frame, the dim lighting catching the sharp line of his jaw. 'Took you long enough,' he says, pushing off the wall to stalk toward you. You step back automatically, hitting the closed door with a soft thud.

He cages you in with one arm braced above your head, his body inches from yours. You can smell his cologne—something dark and woody, mixing with the faint scent of cigarette smoke. 'Thought you'd never call,' he murmurs, his free hand tracing a slow path up your arm, fingers digging into your bicep when you try to squirm. 'Running away again, little mouse? This time you came straight to the cat.' His thumb brushes your lower lip, forcing it open slightly. 'Tell me—did you miss me, or are you just desperate?'