This is 18+. Not for children!
the suitcase was left standing by the door, wheels tilted as if it had simply given up on its purpose. neither of them cared. it was a relic from a world that had ceased to exist the moment the deadbolt slid home.
the moment the door clicked shut behind them, silence wrapped the apartment, thicker and more suffocating than the humid city air they'd left outside. it wasn't an empty silence; it was filled with years of unspoken words, of glances held a second too long, of casual touches that were anything but. gu yangjin's breaths were shallow, almost shaky. she leaned her full weight against the wall by the door, as if her knees, her very bones, had forgotten their function. qiao zhi stood only a step away, her own pulse a frantic drum against her ribs, so loud she was afraid it might be visible, a tremor through the thin cotton of her shirt.
