𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙮.

disclaimer under the cut.

his eyes, staring down the barrel of a gun. there’s a minute click that reverberates in the bullet chambers, signaling that the weapon was loaded and ready, were he not careful. something unravels within, two chess pieces cohabitating the same dimension, at the boundaries of each other’s territories. liu xiao noticed the gears moving in the other's mind moving rapidly, catching up in a way that set him on edge — he’d never stood on the precipice, not like this.

“until recently, i didn’t think you capable of catching up. i underestimated you.” there must be a reward in admitting to one’s weakness, to expose the parts that are lacking and to have them examined by such prying eyes. if not to be praised and treasured as a subject, at the very least it can serve as a distraction. liu xiao offered a smile, hands bared and held up on each side of his head in an act of (mock) surrender.

but in the end, provocation is the weapon that he knows how to employ best. humans and their vices are malleable, and his just so happen to tease liu xiao’s own appetite. he guides the gun towards his own chest, down across the line of his windpipe.

“what lies ahead for me is a mystery, though. you wouldn’t be so ruthless as to keep it from me, officer?”

casually places his teacup back on the table. his upstairs neighbor's washing machine is still making those strange, repetitive noises...

there’s a tale that he’d once read, as a boy. in the story, a man is afraid of his own heartbeat, haunted by the echo of it as he’s interrogated by a couple of officers who were called by a neighbor. unable to bear it, the man confesses to a crime: he’d killed an old man, and the heartbeat was never his but someone else’s entirely; it was the reflection of his sin, the all-consuming guilt.

it was one of liu xiao’s favorite short-stories, growing up. the thought of someone’s emotions overpowering all reason, permeating through the film of reality to sit and turn into something uglier and ever-present, like the cacophony of a heart that’s stained with remorse, or want.

his laugh escapes him before he can disguise it, a hand flies to cover his own mouth, slightly embarrassed by the sudden sound. judging by the way sae’s brows furrow, he suspects the other doesn’t appreciate the interruption. liu xiao offers him an apologetic smile, hands up like he was caught doing something bad. “i’m not laughing at you.”

“it tickles… right here.” his head tilts to the side, revealing the place that sae had pressed moments before with sharp teeth. though there’s no visible marking left, his skin burns hot where sae’s mouth touched.

liu xiao guides him inside the apartment, making sure not to drop him as he balances the man on his back. when was the last time he’d give anyone a piggyback ride? perhaps his older brother, many years ago. or one of his younger cousins, he can’t tell.

he places sae carefully on the couch.

“are you thirsty? stay here, i can give you some water—” liu xiao’s voice cuts abruptly, interrupted by a sudden pull that brings him down to a knee, coming face to face with sae’s half-lidded eyes. his mind wanders. he recalls the moment the nameless protagonist became assaulted with the fear of being found out, of being seen. was his heartbeat loud enough to be heard?

“hm? do you not recognize me? i’m your neighbor.”