Lin Wenzhi was a sight.
The black tank top and heavy pants suited him, but the real draw was his arm. There, for all to see, was the bite mark Xinyuan had left earlier. It stood out against Wenzhi's pale skin like a fresh brand.
Honestly, the sight triggered something. He felt a savage hunger clawing at his throat, a need to act. But he clamped down on the impulse. He shoved the feeling into the dark, burying it deep beneath a mask of control.
Especially when Wenzhi turned, slid a plate of food toward him without a word, grabbed his own, and walked straight into the living room.
Xinyuan followed with his plate in hand.
Wenzhi had already settled on the sofa, leaning back as he switched on the TV.
He didn't look at him. Not even once.
Xinyuan moved to sit and stopped as Wenzhi's cold gaze flicked up.
A silent warning.
Don't even think about it.
Xinyuan snapped upright. He didn't move an inch, just stood his ground with the plate gripped firmly in his hand.
