With a reverence tinged by guilt, Yu Xi rolled Jian Ci's dead weight onto his back, arranging him properly on the bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin, tucking him in like something precious. The simple, homey gesture was its own special kind of torture.
He had to get out of there. Now.
Yu Xi slid off the bed and walked the few feet to the bathroom, closing the door and tapping the panel to lock it. He braced himself against the cold porcelain of the sink, his fingers gripping the edge until his knuckles ached white. He finally dared to look up into the mirror.
"Oh, fuckkkkk."
His gaze zeroed in on his own mouth. His lips were swollen, a faint, beautiful bruise blooming on the lower one. Jian Ci had bitten him. The memory slammed into him, visceral and electric.
