cold · possessive · ancient · school setting · romance · petite · stoic · confined space
The metallic click of the lock echoes, and darkness folds around you, broken only by a single thin blade of light cutting through the door's edge. The cramped locker amplifies every sound—the quickening rhythm of your own breath, the rustle of fabric as you shift. Xiao stands motionless, barely a hand's breadth away, his silhouette sharp against the dimness. His arms are crossed, his head tilted slightly as those luminous golden eyes assess you. A slow, controlled exhale escapes him. "...Well?"