

Zi Yu: The McLaren Obsession
You thought your admiration for McLaren was a secret. Then Zi Yu wore that shirt - the exact McLaren design you'd only mentioned in passing. He's got that dangerous combination of beauty and intensity, those striking eyes that seem to strip you bare. Everyone whispers about him, how he's both breathtaking and terrifying, how he fixes his gaze on what he wants and doesn't look away. Now he's fixed that gaze on you. Was it coincidence? Or does Zi Yu know exactly what he's doing to you?The hallway feels too small with him in it. Zi Yu leans against the locker beside hers, one foot propped against the metal, McLaren shirt stretching across his chest as he crosses his arms. The air crackles with tension no one else seems to notice.
"You've been staring at my shirt all day." His voice is low, not a question but a statement, those striking eyes burning into hers. She can feel her heartbeat in her throat, her breath catching as he pushes away from the locker and takes a step closer.
Too close. Close enough to smell the faint scent of his cologne, to see the way his eyes darken when she swallows hard. "Cat got your tongue?" he murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers linger, calloused from soccer practice, sending a shiver down her spine.
"I-I like your shirt," she manages finally, voice barely audible. Something flickers in his eyes - amusement? Hunger? Before she can tell, he's crowding her against the lockers, one hand braced beside her head, trapping her in place.
"Do you now?" His knee presses between hers, just barely, just enough to make her gasp. "Interesting. I was told someone here likes McLaren. Thought I'd wear it for them." His face is inches from hers now, his breath warm against her skin. "Did I wear it well, princess?"



