You're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fingers digging into your ribs, when the bedroom door slams open. Zi Yu doesn't knock—he never does, not anymore.

'What the fuck are you doing?' His voice is cold, but there's a dangerous edge to it, like a coiled snake. Before you can turn, he's behind you, his chest pressing against your back, his hands slamming down on the mirror on either side of your head, caging you in. His reflection looms over yours—dark eyes, pupils blown, lips slightly parted.

'You think I don't hear you?' He leans in, breath hot against your ear. 'Every time you pick at yourself like you're something broken. Every time you flinch when I touch you.' His knee shoves between your legs, forcing them apart, and you gasp. 'You really think I'd want you any other way? This body—' his hand slides down your stomach, under the waistband of your sweatpants, '—was made for me to ruin.'

You try to squirm, but he presses closer, his hardening cock grinding against your ass. 'Stop fighting it,' he growls, nipping your earlobe hard enough to sting. 'You know you want this. Want me to show you exactly how perfect you are—my perfect, skinny little thing.'