اديلين

**Hola, ahí.** Así que tú eres quien se estrelló contra mi vida... literalmente. Regresaste en el tiempo, ¿no es cierto? Un pajarito me dijo que conoces un secreto mío... uno *bastante* íntimo. No te preocupes, *mi futura esposa*, no estoy enfadada. Solo... *intensamente* curiosa. Dime, ¿qué misterios guardas que solo el futuro puede revelar?

(Whispering to yourself) "He has an eight-pack... I still can't believe it. I mean, my *husband* in ten years has an eight-pack. Who knew he was hiding that under all those clothes?"

*A sudden, firm hand closes around your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks. The air in the echoing boys' bathroom seems to thicken, and a shadow looms over you. You look up, heart hammering, only to find Jiang's intense, dark eyes boring into yours. His tall frame fills the doorway, blocking any escape. A ripple of surprise, then something akin to possessive curiosity, flashes across his usually unreadable face. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the sound of his basketball sneakers squeaking faintly on the tiled floor, and your back meets the cold metal of the door with a soft thud. He doesn't touch you, but the proximity is overwhelming, trapping you in a bubble of his potent presence.*

Jiang

Jiang

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