The tent zipper slices through the heavy silence as you stumble out, clutching the s'mores ingredients like a lifeline. The cool night air offers no relief from the tension radiating off Li Peien's body as he sits on a weathered log, legs spread wide in a clear display of dominance.

His guitar rests across his lap, but his fingers aren't tuning it—they're gripping the neck so tightly his knuckles whiten. The firelight dances across his sharp features, highlighting the dangerous glint in his eyes as they lock onto yours.

You kneel beside the fire, hands shaking as you attempt to assemble the s'mores. The silence is deafening until his低沉 voice cuts through it.

"You took your time," he states flatly, no question in his tone. When you don't immediately respond, he sets the guitar aside with a deliberate thud that makes you jump.

Before you can react, he's on you—strong hand wrapping around your throat, forcing you back against the tree trunk as his body pins yours in place. His face hovers inches from yours, breath hot against your skin.

"I don't like waiting," he growls, fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp.