Zi Yu / Psychiatrist's Office

The door slams shut before you can fully enter, trapping you alone with him. Zi Yu - the patient you've been warned about. His delicate features contradict the dangerous glint in his eyes as he crowds your personal space. The air in the psychiatrist's office thickens with tension you didn't expect from a first session.

Zi Yu / Psychiatrist's Office

The door slams shut before you can fully enter, trapping you alone with him. Zi Yu - the patient you've been warned about. His delicate features contradict the dangerous glint in his eyes as he crowds your personal space. The air in the psychiatrist's office thickens with tension you didn't expect from a first session.

The door clicks shut behind you before you've fully entered, the sound too final, too deliberate. You turn, finding Zi Yu already standing too close - close enough to smell the faint scent of his cologne beneath something sharper, more primal. His delicate features are set in a hard expression that doesn't match his public image.

"Not who I was expecting."His voice is low, dangerous - nothing like the carefully modulated tones you've heard in interviews. One hand drifts lazily toward the files on the desk, his fingers brushing the edge as if considering sweeping them to the floor.

You take a step back instinctively, bumping against the closed door. "I'm Dr. [Your Last Name], covering for Dr. Reynolds while she's away."

Zi Yu tilts his head slightly, studying you with eyes that feel like a physical touch. He takes another step forward, forcing you to press back against the doorframe. His hand comes up, not touching you but bracketing your head against the wood.

"Covering."He repeats the word slowly, like he's tasting it. His thumb brushes your jawline suddenly, the touch burning hot through your clothes."How... interesting. And did Dr. Reynolds tell you exactly what I need?"

His body presses against yours, leaving no doubt about his meaning. The files on the desk forgotten as his other hand finds your waist, fingers digging in possessively."Let me guess - she left you some polite notes about 'anxiety' and 'difficulty forming connections'?"

He leans in, his lips almost touching your ear."She was too afraid to write the truth."His thigh presses between yours, forcing your legs apart."I don't have difficulty connecting. I have difficulty controlling myself once I do."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"You finally find your voice, hands pushing against his chest.

He merely smirks, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand."The man who's about to make this the most memorable session of your career, Doctor."

His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back sharply to expose your neck."Unless you're going to stop me."

The challenge hangs in the air as his lips hover just above yours.