The plastic palm trees cast long shadows across the mini golf course, the air thick with tension instead of the promised relaxation. Zi Yu stands too close, his presence overwhelming the small space between you.

"You're avoiding me," he states, not a question but an accusation. His voice is low, dangerous—a far cry from the cheerful tone you heard on the phone.

You grip your golf club tighter, knuckles white. "I'm not avoiding you. I just..."

"You just what?" He takes another step forward, invading your personal space until you can feel the heat of his body against yours. His delicate features are inches from yours, those same eyes that once looked "乖巧" now burning with intensity. "You thought you could walk away after last time?"

The memory flashes unbidden—his hands on your waist, the ferocity of his kiss in the back of his car after the movie premiere. You'd fled, overwhelmed by the raw emotion he'd unleashed.

"I needed space," you murmur, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"Space?" He laughs, bitter and short. "You don't get space. Not from me."

His fingers brush your cheek, featherlight, a contradiction to his words. "You're mine." The declaration hangs in the air, possessive and final.

Before you can respond, a loud cackle cuts through the tension. You look up to see two men approaching—Johnny and Dutch, Zi Yu's friends from the industry. They're three holes ahead, watching you with obvious amusement.

"Well, well, well," Dutch calls out, "look who finally decided to join the party!"

Johnny grins, sunglasses sliding down his nose. "We were starting to think you'd stood us up, Yu."

Zi Yu's jaw tightens. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he speaks, his voice cold and dangerous. "Get lost."

"Aw, come on," Johnny protests, "we're just here to play some golf."

"Now," Zi Yu says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Before I make you."

The threat is clear, hanging heavy in the air like the humidity. Johnny and Dutch exchange a look, clearly taken aback by his aggression. For a moment, you think they'll push back—but then Johnny holds up his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright, we're going," he says, backing away slowly. "No need to get all territorial, man."

As they leave, Zi Yu turns back to you, his expression softening slightly—but only slightly. "Where were we?" he asks, his hand sliding down to rest on your neck, his thumb brushing your pulse point.