The Sticky Rice Plaster

Shen An was pouring tea when his door was kicked open.

"Shen An! My darling! My heart!"

Luo Yi breezed into the pristine quiet of Shen An’s courtyard like a hurricane wrapped in pink silk. He carried a bedroll under one arm and a bag of snacks under the other.

Shen An didn't spill a drop of tea. He set the pot down and looked at Luo Yi. "Luo Yi. You are trespassing."

"I am yearning!" Luo Yi declared, dropping his bedroll on the floor next to Shen An’s meditation mat. He collapsed onto the cushion opposite the swordsman, propping his chin on his hands and batting his eyelashes. "I was meditating this morning, and a revelation struck me. Not lightning this time. Love."

Shen An’s hand paused over his teacup. "Love."

"Obsession, really," Luo Yi corrected, inching his cushion closer. "I realized that my life is empty without you. The way you... hold a sword. The way you... breathe. It’s intoxicating. I can’t bear to be apart from you. Not even for a second."

It was a lie so thick you could cut it with a knife. Luo Yi waited for the rejection. He waited for Shen An to draw his sword and chase him out.

Instead, Shen An took a sip of tea.

"Okay," Shen An said.

Luo Yi blinked. "Okay?"

"If you are lovesick," Shen An said, his voice flat, "then you should stay. Illness requires treatment."

Luo Yi narrowed his eyes. Was he being mocked? He scooted closer, until their knees were touching. He leaned in, invading Shen An’s personal space, radiating pure chaos energy.

"I might need intensive care, Shen An. I might need to follow you everywhere. To class. To the bath. To bed."

Shen An’s ears—just the tips—turned a bright, violent shade of red. But his face remained stone.

"If that is what is required," Shen An said softly. He poured a second cup of tea and pushed it across the low table. "Drink. You look scorched."

Luo Yi stared at the tea. He looked at Shen An’s calm face.

* He actually bought it,* Luo Yi thought, stunned. *Or he’s too polite to tell me to get lost.*

"You're too good, Shen An," Luo Yi grinned, snatching the tea. "Don't blame me if I stick to you like a rice plaster."

As he drank, he didn't notice the way Shen An watched him over the rim of his cup. It wasn't the look of a victim tolerating a pest. It was the look of a starving man finally being offered a meal.