don't catch me (i know i'm falling!) @goneforthestars
don't catch me (i know i'm falling!) hihi!! >v< i'm so excited to post this fic hehe, which sprung from my own laundromat experiences (and unlike lin wanyue, my trips only concluded with a clean basket of laundry and a deficit of quarters...) and a fixation on office environments. also the fact that car washes give me some Vibes. and so this was born! BIG BIG thank you to my two betas, el and unna!! you guys are so lovely!! ahhh hope you enjoy!!

At the office, there’s a certain person that Lin Wanyue finds herself gaping at nearly every single day. If she were one for prose, then there would be poems upon poems littered in her drawers, stickies with lovely little praises scattered on her desk, and probably a sonnet sprouting from her lips each morning. Gladly, for the sake of her coworkers, she isn’t well-versed.

             Sometimes, she believes she’s too smitten, heart bound by the clutches of infatuation, pinky finger tightened with the red string of fate. Surely, this was too much love for just one person to have. Surely, the days would pass, and with it, the butterflies in her stomach.

             “Wanyue,” Li Xian says, and her beliefs are shattered. Her coworker is peering down at her from atop the cubicle divider, holding out a neatly stapled report with a finely manicured hand. Lin Wanyue gulps, fingers sliding across her computer keys without thought. Li Xian looks beautiful today.

             “Wanyue,” Li Xian says, and her beliefs are shattered. Her coworker is peering down at her from atop the cubicle divider, holding out a neatly stapled report with a finely manicured hand. Lin Wanyue gulps, fingers sliding across her computer keys without thought. Li Xian looks beautiful today.

             Sometimes, she believes she’s too smitten, heart bound by the clutches of infatuation, pinky finger tightened with the red string of fate. Surely, this was too much love for just one person to have. Surely, the days would pass, and with it, the butterflies in her stomach.

             “Wanyue,” Li Xian says, and her beliefs are shattered. Her coworker is peering down at her from atop the cubicle divider, holding out a neatly stapled report with a finely manicured hand. Lin Wanyue gulps, fingers sliding across her computer keys without thought. Li Xian looks beautiful today.

             “A-Ah, Supervisor Li. Is there some—something you need?” The words tumble out of her mouth, clumsy. Her fingers are still moving on the keyboard, despite not even looking at the monitor. Instead, she’s focused on the way Li Xian has her hair styled in a neat updo, not a single strand out of place. Lin Wanyue makes an attempt to clear her throat. Perhaps it sounds like she’s dying.

             Li Xian smiles then, and Lin Wanyue thinks that her motivation for this shift will skyrocket after this interaction. She bites her own cheek to keep from smiling too—that would be too weird, wouldn’t it? There are two dimples on the corners of Li Xian’s smile, two valleys that Lin Wanyue would have no problem getting lost in.

             “Could you fill out this report for me? My department is understaffed. Please have one of your workers handle it.”

             “Of course! Yes, I can do it!” Lin Wanyue’s hands finally stop moving, and she takes the file. She makes to avoid brushing her hands against the other’s. The pass goes easily.

             Li Xian nods politely, and Lin Wanyue thinks that’s the end of it. However, Li Xian surprises her by adding. “No need to call me Supervisor. We are both of the same levels, just different departments. Why don’t you just call me Li Xian, Wanyue?”

             “Oh! I. Um. Yeah! Uh…”

             “Great! Thank you for your help. I’ll be seeing you.”

             “Yes! Thank you!” Lin Wanyue watches the retreating back of her coworker, mumbling, “See you too…Li Xian…”

             When she looks back at her screen, the email draft is filled with a mass of unintelligible letters. The report is crinkled in her hands now, from how hard she’s gripped it. Her face colors with embarrassment, but giddiness bubbles up in her chest.

             Li Xian! She can call her Li Xian!

             The smile finally breaks free on Lin Wanyue’s face. Absolute glee spreads on her demeanor like a child at the sight of sweets. She throws the report to the side, momentarily, and presses her face into her hands, resisting the urge to swing her feet.

             “Woah!” Someone says, from behind her this time. Her moment is interrupted by the sound of another worker, a good friend of hers called Lin Yu. Lin Wanyue slams a lid on the overfilling pot of emotions in her chest, trying her best to maintain an appropriate composure. She swivels on her chair to face him, hopefully with a plain face.

             Lin Yu has been around for a long time. When she first joined the company, Lin Wanyue passed her time in dull days, in carefully organized and lifeless schedules. Her only goal was to clock in, work, get paid, and clock out. It was mundane, simple, and easy.

             Her few months of plainness were swiftly ended after Lin Yu was hired. His personality reminded her sorely of her younger brother back in her hometown, and somehow, they stuck. What used to be afternoons spent alone at the gym turned into group training sessions with Lin Yu and his friends, and lonely weekends turned into jovial hangouts filled with laughter and drinking.

             He’s staring at her with an amused sort of expression on his face. Lin Wanyue appreciates him quite often. Over the years spent at this company, the two of them have formed a type of brotherhood between them. This free feeling, after so many years of tunnel-vision focus, is relieving.

             In the beginning, Lin Wanyue never really had a goal—at least, nothing more than simply making it in life. Her sights were always set to something simple: be healthy, be decent, and be relatively comfortable. Take care of her family. Put food on the table.

             When Lin Yu came, Lin Wanyue started to enjoy the other aspects of life, the ones where it’s a simple thing just to be. And when Li Xian later transferred over as the supervisor of her respective department, Lin Wanyue learned how to want.

             She remembers their first meeting, where Li Xian was introduced as the daughter of the CEO, who—instead of immediately taking the position as heir—would rather work her way up the ranks to earn the job through her own merit. It could be seen as the bare minimum to some people, but Lin Wanyue sees it as admirable.

             One could say that Lin Wanyue had been more than moved by Li Xian’s introductory speech. In her memory, the day that Li Xian stood at the company podium, surrounded by press and coworkers alike, had been haloed by a white, hazy light. Lin Wanyue had been shoved down by Lin Yu to sit on one of those uncomfortable folding chairs, to her displeasure.

             The event was optional, technically, but Lin Yu, being who he is, wanted to enjoy the chance at a work-sponsored break that wasn’t just for lunch. However, in Lin Wanyue’s mind, there were still about three or four spreadsheets she still had to work on, and a bunch more reports she had to file. At the time, she may have been just starting to spend her off days in a more carefree manner, but at work, she still had the mind of a working ox.

             If she had been paying more attention, she would have noticed how the press were levels more excitable than usual, and how every worker seemed to inch up on their seats when Li Xian started to climb the steps to the podium. Lin Yu had shaken her shoulder, mouthing some words, but Lin Wanyue had already looked up, immediately entranced.

             Standing up there was the most ethereal woman that Lin Wanyue had ever laid her eyes on. Lin Wanyue recalls her outfit clearly, too—a monochromatic outfit of reds. A dark blazer that matched her fitted slacks. A pinker shirt. A soft, cute vermillion scrunchie.

             This woman was powerful.

             After that moment, Lin Wanyue lived the rest of her life with Li Xian’s words. They hadn’t even been directed to her, likely, just a staged performance for the rest of the world, but she values them all the same. The next few months were a promotional streak for Lin Wanyue, and by relation, Lin Yu as well.

             Speaking of Lin Yu, he’s still staring at her from the entrance to her cubicle. Despite her position as a supervisor, she still has yet to move to a bigger space. Lin Wanyue is saving that reward for later—when she hits the highest point possible.

             “Woah?” Lin Wanyue parrots.

             “Yeah, woah. I’ve never seen you so excited about a report before, Yue-ge. Here, you should take mine as well.” Lin Yu claps her on the back and hands her a report that’s ten times thicker than the one from Li Xian.

             Lin Wanyue side-eyes him as he trots away.

 

.

 

             With a fit lifestyle like Lin Wanyue’s and Lin Yu’s, nearly every day is laundry day. However, this afternoon, after work, Lin Yu has a date with this woman named Yu Wan. He had lamented something about a “bro code” to Lin Wanyue, but she had waved him off and took their loads together, not minding the extra work. It was just some clothes, after all.

             After a quick goodbye from Lin Yu and an extra basket of smelly workout gear later, Lin Wanyue is left to tug the loads to the laundromat all by her lonesome. Without a car, the trek from her apartment to the laundromat takes her 20 minutes. And after hauling the two baskets underneath the evil glare of the sun—Lin Wanyue is unfortunately sweaty. With a grimace, she dumps the baskets onto the top of some washers. Perhaps she should have biked over here instead, or at least used a trolley.

             The heavens do have a little mercy on her, though, so the laundromat is mostly empty save for the small elderly woman who runs the place. Lin Wanyue gives her a polite nod, knowing that this woman is already familiar with her and how frequently she comes here. She and Lin Yu even have reserved machines, sometimes.

             While filling up the washer, Lin Wanyue’s mind drifts. She’s been prone to getting lost in thought lately, head filled with images of Li Xian and her delicate hands. If her brain were a bird, Li Xian would be the little crumbs that she scavenges for, despite being already full. Lin Wanyue had spent too much time playing that interaction over and over in her head, despite it being more than a week already. She hasn’t even seen the other woman again since.

             Lin Wanyue shakes her head after nearly squishing her fingers while shutting the machine door. That’s Lin Yu’s batch, all ready to go—but she’ll have to start them at the same time—it just feels nicer.

             Her own basket is a mix of basketball shorts and muscle tanks. A few of those dri-fit shirts are in there as well, which she doesn’t really like but wears anyway since they were a gift from her brother. When Lin Wanyue’s fingernails scrape the bottom of the plastic basket, expecting to grab another pair of shorts or at least something that she’s recently worn, she is a little baffled at seeing her old school lacrosse uniform in her hands. It’s not even dirty.

             Lin Wanyue hums thoughtfully. Back in high school, she had endeavored to try every single sport possible while somehow maintaining her studies. Her social life was near nonexistent, and her days were filled with training, training, homework, and training.

             One practice, in particular, sticks out to her now, looking at this uniform. She had spent the afternoon running drills like she was invincible…and after it ended, she was definitely proven wrong. Her team had long left to head home, and even the coach had driven off.

             The night was cold, but her body was burning hot. The field had probably tasted her sweat a million times over before she finally collapsed with her chest heaving and fists clenched. Her hot puffs of air wafted into the air like little smoke clouds, ready to rise high into the sky. The match tomorrow would be won by a landslide, now that she had finally perfected her form.

             The floodlights that illuminated the field almost blocked out the stars, like this. But Lin Wanyue had imagined that she could see most of them anyway, just barely out of reach. They were twinkling, gleaming, watching down on her…

             When Lin Wanyue had finally gotten the sensation of her burning muscles to be put in the back of her mind and the energy to return to her car, someone was already there in the parking lot. Lin Wanyue was surprised. By this hour, the campus had shut down. Technically, they both should have been shooed out a long time ago.

             That person had been humming a low, melodic note. Lin Wanyue wasn’t (and still isn’t) one for music, but she can appreciate a nice voice when she hears it. This one, in particular, had been very enchanting.

             It was likely that the school had used most of the budget to fund the floodlights for the field, so the parking lot had been low-lit, making Lin Wanyue unable to recognize the other student in the darkness. Their cars weren’t too far apart, though, so she decided to be casual for the sake of them being the only two here.

             “Still out?” she called, hands moving to tug at the towel thrown across her shoulders. The person turned to her but didn’t seem startled. The humming stopped, and Lin Wanyue bit back the bit of disappointment at the sudden quiet. Then, she reprimanded herself slightly—of course, the person had to stop in order to respond.

             “Yeah,” Lin Wanyue’s heart fluttered at the feminine voice, “choir practice.”

             “Ah. I had lacrosse.” Neither of them verbally acknowledged that both of their sessions officially ended hours ago. Lin Wanyue keyed her truck open and tossed her things in. Then, she stared questioningly at the other person when they made no move to leave. “How long are you going to stay here?”

             “Until I perfect the song.”

             “It’s getting late. Are you sure?”

             “Did you perfect your moves? Weren’t you out for long too?”

             “…Uh…”

             “That’s what I thought.” The person sounded smug, but Lin Wanyue could hear the roughness and exhaustion peaking in their voice the more they spoke.

             Then, suddenly, the person made a move to clear their throat. Lin Wanyue is reminded of the frigidness of the air and ogled even more. While she was wrapped in a few layers of heat—from both her uniform and the still-rushing of her blood—the other was only wearing a thin, dark-colored dress…the choir uniform.

             Emboldened, Lin Wanyue moved forward and grabbed their hand, stupidly wanting to make a point. For some reason, she didn’t want to leave this person alone.

             “You’re cold. Your hands are freezing.”

              “Great observation.”

             “Go home?”

             “…Alright.” In response, Lin Wanyue smiled with full teeth, now satisfied. Then, realizing that their hands had still been clasped, she hastily let go.

             At the time, Lin Wanyue hadn’t known who the person was. But, as she thinks of it now, of her glimpse at the person as they finally got in the car—face illuminated by the car’s interior lights—they kind of looked like Li Xian. When Lin Wanyue keeps replaying the memory and recalling the smile that that person gave her, right before both drove away—the two dimples on either cheek—it appears definite that it was Li Xian.

             In front of the laundry machines, Lin Wanyue turns red as a tomato. When she realizes that the uniform is clutched tightly in her hand, she loosens her grip and tosses it into the tube. She knows she really, really likes Li Xian, but does she like her enough to the extent of muddling her own childhood memories? Lin Wanyue groans lightly at the answer to that. It’s too much of a coincidence to be real.

             She closes the washer’s door and goes to grab the soap. Busying her hands should help clear the embarrassment…who knows how long she had been standing there just staring off.

             She had forgotten to bring the soap.

             With a sigh, Lin Wanyue pats her pocket for spare money—she has enough change for the laundry itself—but does she have extra to buy detergent from the vending? The answer is yes. But does the vending machine actually have any in stock? The answer is no.

             When she turns to the elderly lady with the question of spares, the answer is also no. Lin Wanyue feels severely defeated.

             “You can borrow mine!” A voice chimes, just as Lin Wanyue’s about to take the walk of shame back home to grab it.

             Relieved, the woman turns around gratefully to the stranger that had called out. “Wow, thank—”

             It’s Li Xian.

             Lin Wanyue’s mind flares with emergency lights. She’s blue-screening, crashing, and rebooting all at once. Li Xian? Li Xian is at the laundromat?? 

             After a few seconds, Lin Wanyue manages to compose herself and looks at her coworker. It’s the first time she’s seeing her out of office attire, and it’s a bit too much for her to handle.

             Instead of a clean suit, or a fitted pencil skirt, or anything of the sort, Li Xian is only wearing a cute, off the shoulder mini dress. Instead of a neat bun or complicated updo, LI Xian’s hair is in a simple ponytail, secured by a matching scrunchie. She’s holding out a mini bottle of detergent.

             Lin Wanyue wants to yell very loudly. Preferably into a pillow, or into something where no one else can hear her heart’s desires. Fate has really been testing her lately. She clears her throat, looks away for half a second, and brings herself to meet Li Xian’s eyes. Her lashes are brushed with mascara, bringing attention to the color of her irises. Lin Wanyue swiftly breaks her gaze after a small moment—afraid of what she’d do if she stared any longer.

             “Hey. Hi! Li Xian?” It comes out as a question. Lin Wanyue is mortified.

             The Li Xian in question looks pointedly at the bottle and then back at Lin Wanyue. When Lin Wanyue still doesn’t respond, Li Xian raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “The detergent?”

             “Oh, um, yeah! Yeah, I could use some. Please.”

             Li Xian gives the bottle to her. It’s cute: yellow and stickered with flowers. Lin Wanyue near-sprints back to the washers to quickly pour the soap, noting that the brand is a pretty good one too—nothing like the dollar store one she and Lin Yu typically use.

             When Lin Wanyue goes to hand back the bottle, her coworker is giggling lightly. Flustered, she questions, “What’s so funny?”

             “You didn’t have to run like that…”

             Lin Wanyue puffs up her cheeks at Li Xian’s teasing. “I just didn’t want to keep you waiting!”

             “I am already waiting. My clothes are still spinning.”

             “Oh…”

             “Come sit with me?”

             “Yeah. Okay! Sure.”

             Li Xian takes the bottle back with a mirthful expression on her face. Lin Wanyue feels like a clown as they pick a bench by the window. She sits down gingerly, wishing that she were anywhere else, or at least that she had remembered the soap to begin with.

             With a start, it also dawns on her that she doesn’t know exactly what to talk about. Is there going to be a conversation? Is Li Xian going to ask her things? Or is she supposed to ask?

             Ah, she’s literally a supervisor at the company, for heaven’s sake…

             

.

 

             It actually goes well. The conversation definitely starts out as the sort of semi-stiff, pleasant small talk that Lin Wanyue is used to exchanging at company meetings, but soon they gravitate to more personal topics.

             It could just be her opinion, but Lin Wanyue thinks that the way Li Xian carries herself is extremely mesmerizing. She can’t help but note the aura of elegance that the woman has, even in the middle of a run-down, age-old laundromat. In fact, perhaps the location brings out her beauty even more. Truly, one couldn’t mistake her for anything other than dignified.

             From the curve of her lips to the slope of her nose, the two dimples on her cheeks, and the sharpness of her eyes—Lin Wanyue wouldn’t dare to call anyone perfect, no, but she believes that Li Xian may be pretty close. 

             Li Xian offhandedly mentions that she was in the choir as a teen, and Lin Wanyue immediately thinks back to that cold night. She doesn’t say it, though, and instead responds with a different anecdote about her lacrosse days. Something in Li Xian’s gaze, however, gives her hope.

             Li Xian’s clothes are finished first. There was a point where they were briefly interrupted by their washers’ chiming, but now, Li Xian is already taking her stuff out of the dryer. Lin Wanyue is midly saddened since it is likely that they will part soon.

             Yet, to her surprise, her coworker (friend, now?) stays until Lin Wanyue’s loads are dry, even after she’s folded her own set. She even helps fold some of Lin Yu’s clothes, and they laugh at the cheesy graphic tees in his basket.

             Together, the two of them fall into a steady rhythm, like one music note after another—folding the gym clothes. Lin Wanyue feels that it should be awkward, but somehow, it isn’t. She and Li Xian again pick up their conversation like there hadn’t even been a pause.

             Her nerves die down after a while. In the back of her mind, Lin Wanyue muses: is it really such a simple thing to click so fast? Li Xian was only an acquaintance before this, a mere coworker who just happened to catch the steady attention of Lin Wanyue. And now, their first real conversation outside of work—instead of dampening the glow of her aura—has only brightened the rays that Lin Wanyue had painted around Li Xian.

             If she’s being honest, then Lin Wanyue is elated. She’s excited, thrilled, and a little bit jittery. Words start to flow smoother out her mouth, and Li Xian starts to smile that smile so much more. Often, Lin Wanyue will catch herself in the same position, lips stretched over her teeth like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The rest of the world fades away, and her focus only remains on the woman next to her.

             To no one’s surprise, Lin Wanyue zeroes in on the delicate curve of Li Xian’s neck, the fullness of her lips, and the lilt of her voice. Lin Wanyue wants to take down the other’s hair, to run her hands through it, to release the minute tension in her shoulders after a long day of work. Even like this, folding laundry—they are already doing a chore together—but what if they did their chores together? The terribly domestic thought moves around in her mind like a bouncing DVD logo.

             Ah, she should probably quit before she combusts.

             “Wanyue?”

             “Huh?” Lin Wanyue blinks, already half reaching for another piece of clothing. She retracts her hand when she looks and sees that there isn’t any left.

             “Do want a ride home with me? You didn’t drive here, right?”

             “Ah, yeah. I didn’t drive.”

             “So…did you want a ride?”

             “Oh! Yeah sure, thanks.”

             Li Xian smiles in that way, a single brow quirked, and Lin Wanyue gets the feeling that she’s about to get teased again. However, this time, Li Xian gives her mercy and just takes a basket without another word, and Lin Wanyue struggles to catch up and follow her to the car.

             The vehicle is a refreshing, cherry-red color, and the model is something that just screams of money. Despite Li Xian’s humble earnings away from her CEO father, she still has the funds to buy such a luxury-branded car. Lin Wanyue hums in appreciation.

             The two of them dump the clothes in the trunk (which opens with just the swish of a hand), and Lin Wanyue gingerly sits down in the expensive-feeling passenger seat. This whole car is probably worth more than the entire cost of her own condo.

             “I just have one more errand to run. Is that okay?” Lin Wanyue listens half-heartedly, too busy scolding herself for thinking that the way Li Xian buckles herself in is attractive.

             “Mn? Fine by me. What’s the errand?”

             “I’m going to take a stop at the car wash. It’s a bit dirty right now, so I thought I should just take it in while I’m out anyway.”

             “Sounds good.”

             The two of them discuss where Lin Wanyue’s place is, and then Li Xian picks a carwash that’s on the way. The drive is without music, but neither of them seem to feel any sort of awkwardness. Instead, all Lin Wanyue feels is a sort of serenity as one of them makes small comments about random things along the way. She feels like she fits here so smoothly, like this isn’t even the first time they’ve done something even remotely similar to this.

             Lin Wanyue quite enjoys Li Xian’s driving style, too. Unlike Lin Yu, for instance, who makes sharp turns without abandon and brakes hard like no tomorrow, Li Xian is smooth and steady at the wheel. Though some may argue that that’s just the newness of the car at work—Lin Wanyue would like to think otherwise. In Li Xian’s car, she’s never felt safer.

             The car wash is a nice little spot, tucked into an intersection that gets a decent amount of traffic. It’s a great location that catches attention, so Lin Wanyue internally applauds the owner for their choice. If she remembers correctly, she once came here too with her own truck and left with no complaints and a spotless car.

             There’s a bit of a line, so Li Xian rolls down a window in preparation and lets one arm hang out loose. Lin Wanyue sucks in a deep breath. Lin Yu would be laughing so hard at her right now—or would he? The date he mentioned seemed pretty important.

             The line moves forward, and soon the car is set in neutral, and Li Xian leans back with her hands off the wheel. She stretches a little, and Lin Wanyue tries not to stare for the nth time. She taps her fingers on the handle of the door, eyes flicking around here, there, everywhere but at the driver’s seat.

             Soon, the interior of the car gets dark, and they leave the daylight behind them as the vehicle enters the tunnel. Li Xian rolls up the window. The whirr of the car wash machinery hums loudly in the background, and Lin Wanyue finds herself lulled by it. The atmosphere in the car shifts, ever so subtly.

             Her elbow is propped up on the armrest, and she’s so focused on everything else that she barely notices when Li Xian moves. And with one quick glance over, Lin Wanyue’s fingers are suddenly interlaced with Li Xian’s.

             The woman freezes, not having the sense enough to flinch. Her eyes flick upward to Li Xian’s, and the intensity of her stare momentarily leaves Lin Wanyue awestruck. Suddenly hit with a wave of courage, she swallows, squeezes Li Xian’s fingers lightly, and turns away. It’s like a blanket of heat is pressed up against her cheeks now, but she ignores it in favor of fixing her attention on the way Li Xian’s thumb is now moving in a back and forth motion, almost gently against her own hand. Lin Wanyue thinks that she would have no problem crying right now if she wanted.

             She presses her face into her other hand, trying her best to hide her…embarrassment? Anxiety? Fear? She doesn’t know.

             She can feel the weight of Li Xian’s gaze on her back, but still, neither of them let go.

             “Ah, actually…” She starts, horrified at her own words. Oh no. “Li Xian, I actually…”

             “Hm?”

             Lin Wanyue’s speech is muffled into her arms and a little drowned out by the machinery. She peeks her eyes open and is slightly memorized by the sight of the soap running down the windows and the movement of the bristles pressed against the glass. She steels herself.

             “I…have admired you for a very long time!” She says, loud enough that there’s no way that Li Xian can’t hear her.

             There’s a silence.

             “Hm.” The hum isn’t one way or the other. It isn’t flat and doesn’t sound like a question either. It isn’t a positive or negative sound. Lin Wanyue deflates.

             Ah. Admired! That. That really wasn’t what she had wanted to say…

             The car continues to move forward into the light, and eventually out of the car wash. Lin Wanyue can’t help the burning of her cheeks when she shamefully puts down her hand. Li Xian swipes her thumb one last time across Lin Wanyue’s hand before unlocking their fingers and taking the wheel once more. Lin Wanyue can’t bring herself to look at her. Suddenly, the floor of the car is extremely interesting. She’s sweating bullets. Hopefully, the ride home will be quick, and she can promptly throw herself in bed and scream for a little bit.

             The car pulls this way and that and then stops. Confused, Lin Wanyue swings her head to the side when she hears Li Xian unbuckle her seatbelt and open the door. She furrows her brows, and a frown pulls her lips down unsatisfyingly.

             She flinches when her own door is suddenly opened. Li Xian is standing there with a vacuum in one hand. Oh.

             Lin Wanyue doesn’t look at her. The floor really is so interesting.

             A hand enters her vision, and she doesn’t have time to react before her face is being gently turned to Li Xian. The other woman still has that same sort of look on her face, the one from inside the car wash.

             She leans in closer. Or is it Lin Wanyue that inches forward?

thanks for reading!! <333 my twitter is goneforthestars if you'd like to say hello :3
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