Lu Zhao once believed that the most terrifying thing in the apocalypse was the man-eating monsters. Until he saw his teammate Jiang Jin pin Gu Xun against the wall, and blinding white light erupted from Gu Xun's body. In that moment, Lu Zhao realized what was truly terrifying: the human heart.
Later, he himself became another "terrifying" person—uncontrollably craving the light Gu Xun brought while simultaneously feeling sickened by that very craving.
——
Time rewound to the week before the apocalypse struck. That afternoon, when everything still seemed normal, yet dark currents were already stirring beneath the surface.
Lu Zhao felt that his twenty-year understanding of university life had been utterly overturned in this single week of his junior year.
September sunlight streamed through the library's tall glass windows, casting mottled patterns across the wooden tables. The air carried the dry scent of old paper and a subtle atmosphere... one that made Lu Zhao squirm uncomfortably.
For the hundredth time, he regretted agreeing to come to the library with his roommate Gu Xun to work on their summer social survey report.
His report barely reached three hundred words, and the primary source of distraction came from diagonally across the room.
A girl in a white dress, with delicate features, had been lingering there for nearly ten minutes. She'd started by pretending to look for books, then paced around the empty seat next to Gu Xun. Finally, as if she'd made up her mind, she swiftly slipped a folded letter—scented with a faint pink fragrance—between the pages of Gu Xun's open book.
"Gu... Senior Gu Xun," the girl's voice was as thin as a mosquito's buzz, her cheeks flushed crimson. "This... please, you must read it."
Gu Xun lifted his head from the thick textbook. His profile was sharply defined in the light, his skin a pale, almost cold-looking white from years of avoiding sunlight. A hint of irritation flickered in his eyes at the interruption, but his good manners made him merely nod slightly, his tone distant: "Thanks. Leave it here."
The girl seemed to have received a great blessing. Blushing, she practically jogged away.
Lu Zhao silently withdrew his gaze, staring at his blank document, feeling a twinge of envy. This was already the third one this afternoon.
He couldn't help but glance across the room at the culprit.
Gu Xun seemed completely unfazed, his long, thick lashes lowered as he buried himself in his books again, utterly focused. Sunlight danced on his soft black hair. He was... well, undeniably handsome. Lu Zhao conceded that Gu Xun possessed that kind of flawless beauty, but did it really have to be this extreme?
He recalled last week, on the way to the cafeteria, witnessing a boy corner Gu Xun and confess his feelings earnestly. After being gently rejected, the boy's eyes had turned red, on the verge of tears. Lu Zhao had been stunned. After sharing a dorm for over two years, he knew Gu Xun was popular, but he hadn't realized it was on this level—universally adored.
Then there was Jiang Jin.
The thought of Jiang Jin instantly amplified Lu Zhao's unease tenfold.
Jiang Jin, their other roommate, had a fiery personality and was a star player on the school basketball team. Lu Zhao had always interpreted Jiang Jin's kindness toward Gu Xun as brotherly loyalty—like always remembering to bring water for Gu Xun during games, or fussing over him more attentively than the school nurse when he was sick.
But since he'd started observing things with a "new perspective," everything had taken on a different flavor.
Yesterday in the dorm, Jiang Jin placed an entire box of premium imported chocolates—ones he'd bought but never dared to eat himself—on Gu Xun's desk. His tone was so gentle Lu Zhao had never heard before: "Liangzi, I've seen you burning the midnight oil lately. Here, get some energy."
Gu Xun, engrossed in a video with headphones on, merely gave a casual nod.
Watching from the side, Lu Zhao felt that indescribable sense of unease welling up again. This wasn't right. How could guys be this... considerate?
An inexplicable irritation welled up inside him. He instinctively didn't want to delve into what exactly felt "off" about the situation; he just wanted to distance himself from this uncomfortable atmosphere.
"What's wrong?" Gu Xun's cool voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Lu Zhao snapped back to reality, catching Gu Xun's gaze. Those eyes, usually too calm, now held a hint of inquiry.
"N-nothing," Lu Zhao muttered hurriedly, lowering his head as his fingers tapped randomly on the keyboard, producing a string of gibberish. He felt like a voyeur who'd stumbled upon someone else's secret, his cheeks burning slightly.
I'm definitely overthinking this. Lu Zhao tried to reassure himself. Jiang Jin probably just cares about people.
But even he couldn't convince himself of that excuse.
"I'm done. I'm heading back to the dorm." Lu Zhao shut his laptop, his movements almost frantic. He needed space, needed to escape the strange magnetic field around Gu Xun and calm himself down.
Gu Xun glanced at the nearly blank document, then at Lu Zhao's visibly unsettled expression. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but in the end, he simply said, "Alright."
Lu Zhao practically fled the library. The afternoon sun beat down fiercely, yet he felt a chill run down his spine.
Back in the familiar dorm room, he was alone. Jiang Jin had gone to practice, and the fourth roommate, who was almost never around, was no help either.
Surveying the space he'd lived in for two years, Lu Zhao felt an intense discomfort for the first time. Gu Xun's bed was immaculately made, foreign-language books he didn't recognize lined the shelves, and the air seemed to carry that crisp, clean aura—an aura that now made him restless.
He took a deep breath and walked to his wardrobe, pulling open the bottom drawer.
He began pulling out some rarely worn clothes, folding them neatly, and placing them on the bed. As he moved, his elbow accidentally brushed against a shirt hanging nearby, belonging to Gu Xun. He jerked his hand back as if stung, instinctively pushing the perfectly ironed shirt aside.
A thought grew clearer and clearer—he had to move out.
Before things became... even more unbearable.
He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through campus rental listings and classified ads, his fingers moving swiftly with a sense of finality.
He made up his mind: within the next few days, he would find a place and move out as quickly as possible. He would distance himself completely from this vortex of confusion and unease.
Lu Zhao impatiently closed the rental page and tossed his phone onto the bed. He surveyed the dorm room, which suddenly felt unfamiliar and oppressively cramped, desperate to escape. He naively believed that moving out would sever all sources of his discomfort.
Little did he know that within a week, no corner would offer him safe refuge. And that roommate he now dreaded more than anything—Gu Xun—would become both the sole beacon of light and the deepest nightmare in this crumbling world.