The lollipop was finally unwrapped.
The orange candy rolled around in my mouth, cloyingly sweet.
When Shen Zhao's lips pressed against mine, the sweetness spread across both our tongues.
Mixed with a faint, bitter taste I couldn't name.
Her fingers were cold, but her movements were gentle.
No, not gentle. Patient.
Like an experienced hunter, in no hurry to close the net.
She tightened the rope little by little, making the prey lose every way out without them even noticing.
I didn't fight back.
I never even thought about fighting back.
It wasn't just because I was faking being stupid.
It was because… I couldn't put the feeling into words.
Shen Zhao's breath, her warmth, the tingle that ran across my skin when her fingertips brushed it.
The quiet, held-back gasps she let out when her lips pressed against the side of my neck.
My mind went completely blank.
But my body reacted more honestly than my consciousness ever could.
I heard my own voice, broken and wavering, thick with tears.
Like a cat that'd been touched right where it was most sensitive.
Shen Zhao said something in my ear, but I couldn't make it out.
All I felt was her fingers lacing through mine, pinning my hands to either side of the pillow.
Palm to palm, our fingers locked tight.
Heat spread from where we touched, burning so hot it made the corners of my eyes sting.
After that night, Shen Zhao carried me to the shower.
As hot water ran over my body, she stood behind me, rubbing my back gently with a loofah.
Her movements were soft, like she was handling something fragile that could shatter at any second.
"Niannian," her voice came through the sound of the water, muffled, "did it hurt?"
I shook my head.
"Did it feel good?"
I didn't answer.
Not because I didn't want to.
Because I didn't know how to.
My body still hummed with that strange, lingering feeling.
My limbs felt heavy and soft, my mind a mess, unable to think clearly about anything.
Shen Zhao didn't seem to care that I didn't answer.
She turned off the tap, wrapped me up in a towel, and carried me back to bed.
The sheets had been changed.
Clean, with the faint, fresh scent of laundry detergent.
She tucked me into the covers, then lay down beside me, and turned off the light.
In the dark, her hand settled on my waist, patting it softly.
Like she was lulling a child to sleep.
"Good night, Niannian."
I didn't reply.
I kept my eyes closed, pretending I was already asleep.
But my heart was racing.
So fast, so loud.
I was scared she could hear it.
And then?
And then it happened again.
Over and over, so many times.
Shen Zhao always found an excuse.
Sometimes it was a lollipop, sometimes a bar of chocolate.
Sometimes just a soft, "You were so good today, Niannian."
Slowly, she didn't even need those props anymore.
All it took was a look, a gesture, a quiet "Come here."
And I would go.
Like a well-trained animal.
I didn't fight back. I couldn't fight back.
I kept up that slow, obedient, clueless fool act.
I let Shen Zhao's hands wander over my body.
Let her lips touch places no one had ever touched before.
Let her whisper my name over and over in the dark, in that rough, low voice.
"Niannian… Niannian…"
But then—
Why did my body remember her warmth?
Why did my fingertips start to tingle before she even came close?
Why, when I closed my eyes, all I could see was her face, leaning over me, the light tracing the sharp line of her jaw?
One night, Shen Zhao went further than she ever had before.
When her fingers pushed in, my back arched off the bed against my will.
A sound spilled from my lips, one I didn't even recognize as my own.
It wasn't pain. It wasn't endurance.
It was something else.
Shen Zhao froze.
In the dark, I couldn't see her face.
But I could feel her gaze on me, heavy, searching, scrutinizing.
"Niannian," her voice was so low it was almost a murmur to herself, "do you like it?"
I opened my mouth.
I should have shaken my head.
I should have looked at her with that slow, blank stare, said "I don't know", and kept up my fool act.
But I didn't.
I said it.
"I like it."
My voice was so soft, almost inaudible.
But in that quiet room, where the only sound was our breathing, the two words were as clear as a stone dropped into still water.
Shen Zhao was silent for a long time.
So long I started to feel scared.
Not scared that she'd figured me out.
Just scared.
Then she leaned down, her forehead pressed to mine, the tip of her nose brushing mine.
Her breath fanned over my lips, warm and damp.
"Niannian," she said, her voice raw with a vulnerability I'd never heard before, almost a plea, "say it again."
I didn't say it again.
Instead, I reached out in the dark, fumbling until I found her hand.
I laced my fingers through hers, palm to palm.
Just like she'd done to me that first night.
Shen Zhao's fingers tightened around mine.
So tight her knuckles turned white.
So tight I could feel her pulse, racing wildly under my palm.
She buried her face in the crook of my neck, her shoulders shaking slightly.
Like a tired beast that had finally found its den.
She didn't say anything else.
Neither did I.
I closed my eyes, feeling her warm breath on my collarbone.
Feeling the damp sweat on our locked palms.
Moonlight seeped in through the window, thin and pale.
It fell over Shen Zhao's hair, glowing with a faint, cold light.
As I stared at that light, I suddenly realized something.
I hadn't thought about running away in a very long time.
...
...
I am Shen Nian.
I'm a fake heiress, and I'm faking being a fool.
I was supposed to run away one night, when no one was looking.
Change my name, move to a new city, disappear from Shen Zhao's world forever.
But tonight, right now, in this moment—
Shen Zhao's fingers are laced through mine, her breath even and soft against my neck, sleeping soundly.
I don't move.
I just lie there quietly, feeling her heartbeat through our joined hands.
Steady, stubborn, one beat after another.
Just like the resolve I once had, the one where I thought I would hate her forever.
Author's note: I don't know who the real prey is anymore.