Tuesday weighed heavily on Lin Zhiyu's shoulders like an impossible burden.
Every passing minute felt like a countdown to doom.
He knew perfectly well that he had to deliver the merchandise to Zhou Mingkai's group, that everyone was waiting for him to arrive with this dirty, shameful task they had imposed on him. Stolen intimate photos.
But he hadn't been able to do it. He didn't want to do it.
And worst of all, Mingkai already knew it.
From the first class, he felt him behind him, at the back of the classroom, like a predator stalking his prey. That dark, intense gaze pierced the back of his neck like invisible needles. He didn't even need to raise his voice: just the sight of his eyes following him was enough to make him feel trapped in a cage.
Zhiyu tried to focus on the numbers on the blackboard, on the teacher's words, on anything. But every time he turned his head slightly, he found himself looking into Mingkai's black eyes, still, heavy, like a sentence.
When recess came, everyone rushed out into the courtyard, laughing, talking, leaving the classroom empty. Zhiyu stayed behind, organizing his things with sickening slowness. He would put a notebook away, then take it out again, pretending to check something he had already checked. As if delaying the inevitable could save him.
But the silence in the hallway betrayed him. The air became thick. He felt the presence before he heard the voice.
"Where's what I asked you for?" Zhou Mingkai's voice sounded behind him, deep, low, filled with patience that was about to snap.
Zhiyu spun around, his stomach tied in knots.
"I... I didn't get anything."
The smile that appeared on Mingkai's lips was icy. A slow, cruel grin that hid nothing.
"Really?" His tone dripped with venom, as if the word itself were a threat.
Zhiyu clenched his fists tightly, as if that could give him the courage he lacked.
"I'm not going to keep stealing people's photos," he said, each syllable trembling but firm at its core.
For a moment, just a flash, he thought he saw surprise in Mingkai's eyes. A fleeting spark. But it quickly faded, replaced by a dangerous coldness.
In a movement so fast that he barely had time to react, Mingkai grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. The thud echoed like a gunshot in the classroom, and pain shot through him immediately. Zhiyu let out a muffled groan.
"Don't make me lose my patience, Zhiyu," Mingkai spat, so close that the heat of his breath brushed against his skin.
Zhiyu's heart was pounding wildly in his chest.
"I won't!" he shouted, trying to push him away, but his voice sounded more like a plea than a challenge.
Mingkai's fist slammed brutally into his abdomen. The air was knocked out of him, and a sharp pain spread like fire, causing him to double over, gasping for breath.
"Ah!" His voice broke into a muffled cry.
Another hit, this time to his shoulder. The impact went right through to the bone, making him stagger.
"Stop!" he gasped, but the word came out broken and weak.
Mingkai let go of him abruptly. Zhiyu fell to his knees, coughing violently. Tears began to roll down his cheeks, and he couldn't stop them. Trembling took hold of him completely. He hugged himself, curled up, trying to hold back the tears that burned inside him.
For a moment, there was complete silence. Only the sound of his broken breathing, his choked sobs, filled the empty classroom.
And then, against all logic, Zhou Mingkai bent down in front of him.
Zhiyu looked up at him, confused, his face wet with tears and his lips trembling. He expected another hit, another threat. He did not expect Mingkai's hand to rise with disconcerting calm.
Mingkai's rough finger brushed his wet cheek. He didn't use a tissue, nothing to serve as a barrier. It was his skin against Zhiyu's. He slowly wiped away the tear that was rolling down, leaving a warm trail behind. Then he ran his thumb across the other cheek, wiping it with a gesture so gentle that it contrasted brutally with the violence of seconds ago.
"If you had done what I asked..." he murmured, his voice hoarse, deep, laden with a dark edge, "...you would have avoided this."
Zhiyu raised his head slightly, his red, shining eyes locking with Mingkai's. There was anger in him. Pain, humiliation. But also, something that shouldn't be there. Something that frightened him even more.
His heart was beating so hard he could barely breathe. His chest rose and fell at a frantic pace. And yet, despite everything, he couldn't look away.
Mingkai's dark eyes descended for a second toward his lips. A second that felt like an eternity.
The air became unbearable, thick with viscous tension. The whole world was reduced to that contact: the rough fingers wiping away his tears, the suffocating closeness of their bodies, the scent of cologne mixed with sweat, and the echo of the hit still vibrating on his skin.
Zhiyu hated himself for feeling it, but the burning in his chest wasn't just fear. There was something else.
A buried desire he didn't want, that he shouldn't acknowledge.
For a moment, the entire universe screamed that this was the moment to kiss.
But Mingkai stood up abruptly, breaking the tension with a sharp movement.
He looked down at him, the cold returning to his expression like a blanket of ice.
"Don't ever challenge me again, Zhiyu." His voice was a knife cutting through the air. "Because next time, I won't stop myself."
He turned and left the classroom without looking back.
Zhiyu remained there, on the floor, trembling. His throat burned with sobs, and yet his heart was pounding as if he had run a marathon.
He stumbled home, each step making him feel the weight of the punch to his abdomen and shoulder. He told himself over and over again that he hated him, that he would never forgive him.
But deep down, where he couldn't lie to himself, there was a truth that tore him apart:
Part of him had wanted Zhou Mingkai not to walk away.