huyaoxiaozi

[huyaoxiaozi]

your muse(s) and you!

TAGGED BY: @tamedgod

TAGGING: @asteritm, @cruelprincae, @violenthungers ( for whichever muse is particularly gnawing on your brain atm? 👀), and whoever else wants to!!

[huyaoxiaozi]

Some fun and interesting things I've learned about Zane within these last couple days —

If his life hadn't been so uprooted and he'd been able to continue with school as usual, Zane would've studied to become a botanist / phytologist. He's just a Very Big Nerd about plants, fungi and, by some extension, the part that insects play in that whole equation.

He's taught himself how to extract and make use of various poisons that come from plants and fungi ( for his use and, much later, Matt's as well )— and the same can be said about making his own stuff from medical plants. Of course, they're not a replacement for modern medicine by any means, but still.

He's got a couple notebooks full of handwritten notes and drawings of all the information he's gathered and recipes he's perfected. It's all written in Mandarin.

He's got various potted plants in his apartment and, eventually, he does want to cultivate a place for a greenhouse. For now, he just does a lot of this work on his back porch.

Zane has a pet hognose snake — she's a western lavender hognose and he named her Mochi ( visuals here and here ).

Later on, he gets tattoo on the right side of his neck, over one side of his scar. It consists of Plumb blossoms ( they symbolize perseverance, hope, and resilience. They also happen to be the national flower of China ), a lunar moth ( In Chinese Folklore, recently dead relatives are believed to come back as these moths, so it's specifically a homage to his father ), mushrooms and folliage. It's designed to look like the plants are growing from and around his scar, further signifying resilience, hope and rebirth, even in the face of great pain and loss. Visual of it here ( a full drawing is coming eventually ).

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Zane wasn't far behind with his own food, and in response to Matt's question, he was grinning and offered a one-sided shrug, the gesture clearly communicating I guess you have a point. His comment about having an accent, however, drew a low chuckle from Zane. ❝Maybe,❞ he conceded. ❝But I think you'd be lying if you tried to say you didn't find it charming.❞ Soon enough, he too had finished eating and set it aside — then he tilted his head to glance down at Matt, who had promptly rested his head against his shoulder. He felt a fluttering twinge in his chest as their eyes met.

       ❝Playing nurse is a funny way to describe 'making sure my boyfriend doesn't bleed to death',❞ said Zane, instinctively leaning into Matt, drawn even closer to him as if being pulled by a magnetic force. Matt was gazing up at him with those warm brown eyes, his smile bright. He was more relaxed than Zane could ever remember seeing him and he loved it.

       He was leaning in before he could stop himself, stealing another kiss — and again, it was languid and incredibly soft. He hadn't exactly forgotten, but all of this simply reminded him how, as a teenager, he'd just wanted to kiss Matt senseless all the fucking time. No wonder. ❝ First of all, you need to stop being so fucking irresistible,❞ Zane muttered, followed by a heavy, dramatic sigh. ❝But yes, we should get those bandages changed, so ... why don't you get comfortable for me and I'll be right back.❞

 By the time Zane spoke again, Long Zhi had demolished nearly half of his food already, and only stopped to be able to look at the other with raised brows. "How would I know? I'm hardly a normal person, am I?" Sure, there'd been plenty of times he'd wished he was, but that was all it was: wishful thinking. Being the heir to anything tended to come with its drawbacks, and being the heir to a criminal enterprise led by Xiao Dan even doubly so.

 "Besides," he managed to say in between bites, "you might be speaking my language, but you definitely have an accent now." Of course, he didn't bother to clarify if he meant Zane's Mandarin, or the other language he was so obviously referring to.

 Once done with the food, he set the container down on the table and leaned back into the couch, letting out a content sigh. "I think that hit the spot. Maybe your accent isn't that bad, after all." Scooting a little closer, he let his head rest against Zane's shoulder, fully reveling in the way he felt right here, right now. "You want to get the whole 'playing nurse' out of the way, so we can focus on other things?"

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Zane gave a long, heavy exhale as Matt finally seemed to admit defeat — but still, he wasn't taking any chances. He grabbed the other's ankles and bound them together too, knowing full well that Matt was just as good with his feet and legs as he was with his hands. Go on. End it. He glanced up and, without an ounce of hesitation, scoffed in response. While it was clear that Matt had fully intended to end Zane's life with these recent encounters, he refused to reciprocate in kind.

       He didn't know what was going on in Matt's mind to inspire such ruthlessness, such a lack of emotion, but ... the boy he'd loved, still loved, a small part of him insisted, had to be buried underneath it all somewhere. He had to be — Zane couldn't fathom the possibility that they could never get past this. He refused.

       All of the rage, confusion, and hurt was rising up inside of him, threatening to drag him under, but he couldn't let it. Nor could he let Matt see it, not when he clearly would slit Zane's throat if given the chance. Without even making the conscious decision, he donned the facade he'd created long ago to protect himself — but this version was different, as Zane couldn't manage to shroud it all, not from Matt. No matter how fucked up he was.

       ❝You think I'd bother with restraints if I'd planned on killing you? ❞ He asked, dark eyes narrowing with something that could only be described as annoyance. ❝If I had, I would've succeeded, by the way. You don't come after a skilled fighter with an injury like that — especially if they're the one who gave it to you.❞ Zane rose to his feet with a sigh and glanced down at Matt, offering a quirk of dark brows, his expression cool and collected. ❝You're lucky that skilled fighter was me instead of someone else.❞

       Without another word, Zane turned and headed towards a nearby building — but he stopped once he reached Matt's knives that he'd kicked far out of reach. He bent down to grab them both and briefly disappeared behind a corner. After a few minutes, he returned with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Once he was close enough, he unceremoniously dropped the backpack on the ground, the distinct sound of metal clinking together indicating that those knives were safely tucked inside. Then, Zane settled down next to Matt.

       He cleared his throat roughly, wincing at the tight twinge of pain he felt there. ❝We're going to sit here for however long it takes for us to untangle this fucking mess.❞

 There was a brief drop in his stomach, as Long Zhi realized that this had been planned—Zi Xin expected him. He'd planned all of it, and Long Zhi had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. Still, there was no back up, which meant that this remained a one on one fight regardless. Sure, he may be at a bit of a disadvantage thanks to his shoulder but... All that meant was that they were equals at worst. 

 A fact that became apparent very quickly. The fight went absolutely nowhere. It was a constant back and forth without either of them ever gaining the upper hand. At least until Zi Xin's dagger suddenly turned into something of a staff. It caught Long Zhi off guard, and he couldn't quite wrap his head around what exactly had just happened. Not that he had a lot of time to do so; Zi Xin never missed a beat, and just a few moments later, Long Zhi was blinded by an explosion of pain.

 It took him several seconds—much longer than he would've liked—to pull himself back together. Moving required much more effort now, and he could tell that his movements were becoming slower. Pain and exhaustion were taking its toll, and even his rage couldn't compensate for that.  

 Before too long, Zi Xin managed to land a second strike and this time he couldn't recover within seconds. And that was enough for the other to gain the upper hand. Not only to gain the upper hand, but to completely disarm Long Zhi. And despite his best attempts, there was no coming back from that. Every weapon was out of reach, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't free himself from Zi Xin's grasp.

 Worse yet, he was being wrestled to the ground and his hands bound behind his back with what he assumed were zip ties. Even if he wasn't injured, there was no way he could get out of those with raw strength. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't at least going to give it a few tries. And he did—until the pain became nigh unbearable, even for him.

 Beyond frustrated, Long Zhi finally admitted defeat and took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes.  So this was how it was going to end, huh? Pathetic. Weak. Worthless. After everything, he still hadn't managed to change. "Go on. End it."

[huyaoxiaozi]

Zane edits, 4 / ∞ ... Because Reasons.

[huyaoxiaozi]

        Matt risen to the bait, just as Zane had known he would. Regardless, he was still incredibly difficult to sense, but Zane managed it at the very last second — which cost him a painful slice of Matt's blade at his bicep and he hissed through clenched teeth. Nonetheless, he drew his weapon, evidently electing to use a single, heavy dagger. Again he dodged another flury of swipes and he could see how every missed hit filled Matt with more and more rage.

He was incredibly fast, he always had been — but Zane knew his techniques, his body language and, armed with that knowledge, he was able to confirm with lingering glance that yes, Matt was indeed slowed down by that unhealed injury.

It was good knews, it gave him leverage — but the part of himself that still loved Matt fiercely felt a twinge of rage himself. It was stupid and reckless for him to go after a skilled fighter with that kind of injury. If Zane were anyone else, Matt no doubt would've gotten himself killed tonight. Maybe that was exactly why he'd taken the risk, but ... the truth was, with this completely unfamiliar mindset Matt was in, Zane simply didn't know.

With a barely perceptible graze of his thumb over a hidden lever, the hilt of his weapon expanded quickly with a smooth schlick. He gripped it with both hands and made a few choice swipes, watching as Matt processed the change, calculated and adjusted to it — of course, despite it all, Zane couldn't help but find him just as incredible as he remembered, even moreso, given the way he moved while enduring intense pain with every shift of his arm and shoulder.

Nonetheless, he spotted the tells — the barely noticeable way in which Matt favored his bad arm, the way he used his left as if it were the dominant one all along. His jabs and swipes dragged just slightly, and he glimpsed the barest wince with every surge of pain. There. Zane flipped his weapon, seeking the dull end of his hilt and jabbed forward with as much force as he could muster, aiming for the spot in which his blade had pierced Matt's shoulder last time.

The first hit landed perfectly and it made Matt falter — but he grit his teeth and, unsurprisingly, he was able to endure it and adjust. His movement dragged slightly more, but he was still going strong. They exchanged a few more blocked and dodged blows and Matt actively tried to avoid Zane's attempts to hit that spot again, but ... eventually, he failed and this jab did more than make Matt falter.

It was just enough time — Zane quickly retracted the hilt of his weapon and sheathed it, dropped into a roll and his hands shot out to grip both of Matt's wrists. He twisted them hard, forcing the other's hands to open and the daggers dropped with a series of clangs. He swiftly kicked them far out of reach.

❝That's enough! ❞ Zane snarled — but, with the way he insisted on struggling against his hold, he suspected he'd have to wrestle Matt to the fucking ground.

 To say Long Zhi was furious would’ve been a complete understatement — he was seething, and hadn’t stopped since Zi Xin had managed to injure him. It wasn’t just the fact that someone had managed to injure him and virtually render him useless for a couple of days that amplified his already seemingly endless rage. It was who it was, and what seeing that person again triggered inside of him. A long time ago, in another lifetime, Zi Xin had been someone he’d cared about, loved even, until he’d decided to leave and betray the clan. The betrayal had hurt then, and Long Zhi couldn’t count the times he’d lain awake at night, wondering what he’d done wrong; now it no longer mattered. He just wanted to see him dead at all costs—and he wanted to be the one playing the Reaper.

 So even though it had been a couple of weeks since their last encounter and Long Zhi’s shoulder wasn’t even remotely healed, he was already back on the prowl. Tracking Zi Xin’s movements all across the city, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Xiao Dan would no doubt be pissed once he found out. He’d insisted that Long Zhi either waited until his shoulder was fully healed, or that he took a couple of men along with him if he had to hunt Zi Xin down now. But this was his prey, his revenge, his past that he wanted to erase, and no one was going to stop him, or take it away from him. So he took off in the middle of the night, and had no intention of returning until it was taken care of. Xiao Dan would settle down soon enough, anyway. So long as Long Zhi remained his loyal little weapon, punishment and repercussions were a thing of the past.

 And it seemed as though fortune seemed to smile on him after a while. Zi Xin moved far off the beaten path, and there was no one around that Long Zhi could find, even after sweeping the perimeter twice. Still, he waited, every fiber in his body buzzing with anticipation.

 Blades in hand, he finally dropped down from his hiding spot once it felt right, ignoring the pain that radiated from his shoulder at the impact. Tightening his grip, he closed the distance between them, aiming to strike Zi Xin in the back, before going for the throat. Betrayal was a price to be paid in blood, and Long Zhi intended to take every last drop of it.

[huyaoxiaozi]

@feilien | PLOTTED STARTER.

       Ever since Zane had barely escaped Matt's attempt to carry out a hit on him, he couldn't get him out of his head. Those dull dark eyes that contrasted with the rich, lively brown Zane remembered, his utter lack of expression — aside from anger and rage, of course. Zero hesitation, no hint of emotion that could potentially hinder his actions ... not to mention, he hadn't looked like he was getting enough sleep, if any at all.

       Zane had always known they would one day cross paths again and, while he also knew there would be a chance that Matt could truly be his enemy, a part of him had wanted desperately to dismiss the idea. He'd wanted to believe that Matt would still feel something, that they could talk, but ... evidently, that had been naive of him.

       However, it was abundantly clear that something was very wrong. Matt was like a shadow of himself, any glimpse of hope, good will, anything, it was just ... gone. Zane doubted he'd be able to get anything out of Matt without actively prodding with the correct information, so ... he asked his contact within the Black Dragon Clan to find out what she could about the change in Long Zhi. It had to have been noticed by other people, the change was too drastic not to.

       Once he had enough information to get a rough idea of what had happened, he felt a painfully familiar ache at the realization. Unfortunately, they seemed to share the same terrible experience. Which, of course, left him wondering if the same person had inflicted that pain on Matt purposefully. It wouldn't surprise him.

Zane knew two things for a near certainty; there was no doubt in his mind that Matt would come after him again. And, given how relentless he'd been the first time ... Matt would still be nursing that shoulder injury that Zane had left him with. He'd put together a plan for what he would do when that time came and, by the time it did, Zane was prepared. He'd sought out an abandoned area that was thoroughly hidden from prying eyes and out of earshot. Matt would see it as the perfect opportunity to strike without witnesses.

       All Zane had to do now was wait.

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Of course, Zane noticed that, after catching a glimpse of his tattoo, Yuki's expression seemed to wilt slightly. It was a reaction that he'd long-since learned to expect, especially when he'd advanced from an ordinary foot solider to a messenger. While the nuance behind the reactions shifted as he progressed in rank, the message was still loud and clear — they were known, feared, and their presence often wasn't necessarily a good thing.

       The fact that this place was being protected by the Ice Serpents would only add to Yuki's reaction, rather than take from it. It was a detail Zane was curious about — Yuki wasn't sporting the tattoo himself, so he wasn't an Ice Serpent. Not yet, anyway. Did he have some kind of agreement with them, some connection? It was frustrating not to know, but he suspected he could find out eventually.

       Regardless, he could see how the presence of someone from another powerful triad could indicate trouble, but ... for once, Zane wasn't interested in any of that. It was nice — to seek someone out just because he wanted to. Sure, he did want information, but that was mostly out of his own curiosity.

       Zane briefly put his hands up in mock surrender, ducking his head just slightly, that smile still in place. ❝No triad business,❞ he rasped, assuring Yuki as he easily slid into Kerch as well. ❝I come in peace, I promise.❞

       He casually padded further into the room, sliding his hands back into his pockets and casting a glance around. He spotted the knives Yuki had been throwing and he couldn't deny that he was impressed with his skill. Soon enough, Zane came to a stop in front of him, his body language conveying nothing but a casual friendliness. He studied Yuki's features now that he could focus and think clearly — and he thought he saw some kind of painful weight he was currently carrying.

       In Shu, he said, ❝I came to see if that offer of training Grisha was still on the table, but ...❞ Zane tilted his head thoughtfully, but his gaze softened, despite its natural intensity. ❝I showed up right when it seems something is really troubling you? I understand if you have more pressing things to worry about.❞

The past two years had been a test of his dedication, his endurance -- but most of all, his patience. Isen's reign of terror remained strong and, though Yuki was getting better and better with each passing day, he knew he was out of his league. So he trained. And thanks to Saki, that gap was beginning to close. But neither Saki nor him could stop it when their students began to disappear.

And then Isen did the unforgivable, and Yuki was left to pick up the pieces.

The studio was cold in her absence. Some scars remained on Yuki's body, healed with time but never fully gone. Time wasted while Saki endured whatever torturous fate Isen bestowed on her. Still, all Yuki could do was train. He continued the classes, continued going on like normal even though he wanted to scream. Even though he wanted to storm and rage and destroy the man who felt far too comfortable taking everything from him. But he'd only get one shot at this, and his patience would pay off. He had to believe that.

Ketterdam remained as dangerous as ever. It was a strange place to call home and he wasn't sure if he ever would. Tension between the gangs was beginning to rise. And in wake of Youichi Jishaku's passing, a new player had emerged -- his son, Takashi, who seemed to have as much interest in Isen's downfall as Yuki. But to Yuki's frustration, despite Takashi's prowess and the numbers they'd built, they weren't ready yet.

He'd been here for hours, long after classes ended, only stopping to flick on a light as the sun went down. As soon as the scent of saltwater hit him, Yuki was transported back to a damp alleyway, filled with drunken laughter. Covered in blood.

Every now and then, those slavers crept back into his mind. As did the Shu man he'd helped, the Grisha so suspicious of him. There had been plenty more to take down since then, but the nameless man stayed in his mind. For the first year, Yuki had hoped to see him in the studio. And by the second, he was forgotten.

His hand stilled before he continued throwing the remaining knives in quick succession. He couldn't lose focus, especially when no danger preceded the man's arrival. With every knife thrown Yuki felt his frustration, his hurt, his rage soar alongside it. He saw Isen and Raito in every target. And just as the final knife sank into the foam, a firm knock forced him to look up, his arms falling to his sides.

This man looked nothing like the man he'd met before. Now with neat stubble on his face, his hair was trimmed, his brilliant gold eyes sharp and focused. He had a strong build that spoke of diligent training, rather than the pangs of starvation. Without the dirt and grime, Yuki couldn't help but notice how attractive he was -- and despite the slight flush to Yuki's face, that crooked smile drew a halfhearted one of his own.

"No, it's okay," Yuki replied, turning toward him. Gone was the man's hostility and in its place was something...friendly, almost. It was a welcome change. Yuki's gaze dropped to the man's exposed forearm, bearing the Red Fox Clan's tattoo, and a slight frown pulled at his lips.

"I haven't seen you in awhile." His tone was careful, even as he switched to Kerch. Distancing himself. "...What business?"

[huyaoxiaozi]

[huyaoxiaozi]

ZTAO in New York // 17/02/20

[huyaoxiaozi]

Hey friends — things have been a kinda rough for me mentally these last two months, but I'm starting to feel better / more like myself again. There's still people I need to reach out to and I plan on it soon. I really appreciate your patience and understanding with me ❤️

And thank you for being here and being interested in My Made Up Guy 🥺

[huyaoxiaozi]

How is it that you're always on my mind, even when I'm not trying to think of you?

[huyaoxiaozi]

@soulfulempathy | PLOTTED STARTER.

       It had taken Zane a year and a half to pick up the pieces of his broken life and find a way to stability. After his chance encounter with the Eastern Shu man who'd saved him from slavers' seeking hands, he'd given in to retreat soon enough. His paranoia had gotten the best of him, but the stranger had given him the name of the studio where he claimed someone had trained him how to use his power effectively. Impact studio. Once he'd had stability, Zane had looked into it — he'd found the place easily enough and moreover, he believed he'd figured out the identity of the man who'd helped him. Yuki Hashikawa.

       It had taken another six months for him to seek Yuki out, as ... he'd seen Zane at his worst. He'd seen him in a way he hadn't allowed from anyone — hell, when he'd sought out work from the Red Fox Clan, he'd even gone through the trouble of cleaning himself up as much as he could, making himself look presentable ... and maybe he'd given himself a nasty cold from cleaning with frigid water on the streets of Ketterdam, but it didn't matter. It had gotten him work and his facade had been effective. No one had known how desperate he'd really been. Except for Yuki.

       Despite how dead and empty the studio looked from the outside, Zane reached to pull open the left glass door — and, to his surprise, it was unlocked. As he peered inside, he noted that there were lights on further in, but most of the lighting was dim or off completely. There was a shoe cubby to his left and, with only one pair of shoes tucked away, it made sense now why the lights were so dim. He just hoped that the one lone person here happened to be Yuki.

       Zane stepped inside and closed the door behind him, then bent down to remove his shoes. He placed them in one of the little cubbies before finally venturing further inside.

       It didn't take long for him to hear a thunk! and, only after a minute or two, the same sound followed. Again and again it went, with short pauses in-between, so ... Zane followed the sound. Soon enough, he did indeed find the man he'd been looking for. Yuki was dressed in loose trousers and a sleeveless shirt, clearly practicing his knife throwing. Each throw seemed to have a personal emotional intensity to it, however — as if he were infusing each knife with whatever pained him and casting it away. At the time, he'd lacked the capacity to notice that Yuki was attractive, but now he certainly didn't.

       Zane tucked one hand into the pocket of his trousers, took a steadying breath and allowed any nervous tension to bleed out of him. He wore a mask of easy confidence as he cleared his throat softly and rapped his knuckles loud enough to be audible against the door frame. When their eyes met, he knew for certain that this was indeed the man who'd saved him from an even more terrible fate than he'd already suffered — and a soft, crooked smile curled at his lips. ❝Is this a bad time? ❞

[huyaoxiaozi]

You know, when I see fictional characters who repress all their emotions, they're usually aloof and very blunt about keeping people at a distance, sometimes to an edgy degree—but what I don't see nearly enough are the emotionally repressed characters who are just…mellow.

Think about it. In real life, the person that's bottling up all their emotions is not the one that's brooding in the corner and snaps at you for trying to befriend them. More often than not, it's that friendly person in your circle who makes easy conversation with you, laughs with you, and listens and gives advice whenever you're upset. But you never see them upset, in fact they seem to have endless patience for you and everything around them—and so you call them their friend, you trust them. And only after months of telling them all your secrets do you realize…

…they've never actually told you anything about themselves.

[huyaoxiaozi]

Song Weilong for Bazaar Men China, May 2024

[huyaoxiaozi]

       ❝Well, I need to understand the ... former relationship between you and Isen. I'm not asking you for details — an overview is all. ❞ The longer they sat together, the more Zane's dangerous demeanor began to wane. It never completely vanished of course, but it made way for something softer, inviting. The promise of warmth and safety from the raging storm, a place to share your troubles with assurance that they would remain there.

       ❝I have a feeling ... he's put you through hell, hasn't he? ❞ While it was phrased like a question, it didn't sound like one ... because Zane already knew the answer, even though he was lacking confirmation.

       From what he had been able to gather, Isen had a thing for experimenting on Tiān​cái — those who were blessed with special abilities of some kind. Given that Yuki explicitly referred to himself as a weapon, along with the clear indicators of dissociation, well.... it wasn't difficult to surmise that Yuki had been experimented on, too. It wouldn't surprise Zane in the slightest if he'd gotten the worst of it, in fact. After all, with the pressure of being Isen's makeshift heir, he could imagine the margin for error was nearly nonexistent.

       Again, that painful twinge returned and again, that boy from his youth returned to the forefront of his mind. Matt. Likening Yuki to him would bring Zane nothing but trouble, especially given Yuki hadn't yet proved that he could indeed be trusted to help them take Isen down. As if Matt had been trustworthy, he insisted — but Zane knew the thought was half-hearted. He still couldn't believe that. Regardless, it was a weakness that could be exploited, if he wasn't careful. He once again shoved the thought of Matt to the back of his mind — and stay there.

       Their food came soon enough and, as Zane retrieved his chopsticks to pluck a steaming dumpling from the basket, he gestured for Yuki to go ahead. He hoped the man would at least eat a few before he started talking, but ... it wouldn't surprise him if he decided not to, either.

It was strange. Yuki hadn't expected it to go this direction -- to be offered a taste of freedom on a tight leash, to see that shift in his captor's eyes. Merciful, bordering on compassionate, and yet still wary of Yuki and poised for action. All of it genuine. Strangest of all...Yuki believed his word. Still, as dangerous as it felt to be going out for dumplings in the face of impending doom, his stomach clenched with a pang of hunger. So Yuki nodded.

"You have mine." His voice held some caution of his own. It was in Yuki's nature to be suspicious of everyone. Everyone but him. Another wave of nausea rolled through him at the thought, and once again glass was embedded in his skin, screams in his ears, the imprint of headlights scorched into his line of sight. Yuki shut his eyes hard before opening them again, knowing he couldn't escape the man's watchful eye. This feeling, the feeling of being exposed, of breaking down with an audience? It was unbearable.

True to his word, Yuki didn't attack when he was untied. There were marks in his skin from the tightness of the ropes, which he resisted the urge to rub at. With the beam's help he could stand, only then realizing how truly weak his body had become. Still, his feet were steady and his legs held his weight. In this case, his weakness may come to his advantage. It was never a bad thing to be underestimated.

The smell of food poured out onto the street outside the restaurant, a test of Yuki's self control. This wasn't the first time he'd been starved like this, he thought as they were seated at a secluded table. He could wait. That danger and caution from his captor still simmered below the surface, leaving Yuki on edge in response, and suddenly his stomach clenched again -- only this time, he didn't feel hungry at all.

"What do you need to know?" Might as well cut to the chase.

[huyaoxiaozi]

thank you for sending assassins after me btw i really needed that. it meant a lot to me