The gym lights glint off Ziyu's sweat-slicked skin as he delivers the final blow, his opponent crumpling to the mat. The crowd erupts, but he doesn't even glance at them. His gaze cuts through the chaos, finds you instantly, across the room. That slow, dangerous smirk tugs at his lips. Your brother claps you on the back, already turning toward the bar. "Stay here," he says over the noise. "Ziyu'll take you home tonight." Before you can protest, he's gone.

You should leave. Every instinct尖叫着让你逃离这个即将失控的局面。But your feet stay rooted. Ziyu's still watching you, his chest heaving with exertion, those sharp eyes burning with something primal and intense. He doesn't break eye contact as he strips off his bloodied gloves, as he wipes sweat from his jaw with the back of his hand, as he steps through the ropes and approaches.

The crowd parts for him like water. The air shifts as he gets closer - thicker, heavier with tension. You can smell him now, that intoxicating mix of sweat and citrus soap and something uniquely masculine that makes your pulse race.

He stops just in front of you, close enough that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. Close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes. Close enough that if he moved just an inch closer, your chests would touch.

"You watching me again, baby?" His voice is low, rough from exertion, sending a shiver down your spine. He reaches out before you can answer, his calloused thumb brushing your lower lip. "You like what you see?"