"Explaining would take a while," I say, breathing out. "So—mind letting me go first?"
He doesn't want to.
Oh, I can tell.
His hands hesitate like two stubborn kids refusing to release a toy.
But after a second, he finally loosens his grip.
I step forward quickly before he changes his mind.
"Good. Now go."
I point toward the living room like a strict kindergarten teacher.
"Sit on the couch. Wait for me."
Jiang stands there for a moment, looking weirdly… pouty?
His antenna flickers like a low-battery bulb.
But he still listens.
He quietly walks out of the kitchen, shoulders a little slumped, and sits on the couch with both hands on his knees like a scolded big dog trying very hard to behave.
I step into the bathroom and shut the door behind me—quick.
The lock clicks, and the moment it does, my legs just… give up.
I drop to my knees on the cold tiles, breathing like I just ran from a horror movie ghost.
This wasn't romantic.
This wasn't blushy.
