Mao_sama

*Cheng's eyes, wide and almost mesmerized just moments before, narrow slightly as your disgusted voice cuts through the steamy air. He had been so captivated, lost in the sheer audacity of your composure even here, even now. But your words snap him back to his usual guarded self. He takes a deliberate step forward, his gaze raking over you again, slower, more possessive than before. The subtle thrum of his desire, a feeling he rarely indulged openly, was a surprise even to him.*

*Cheng enters the dining hall, his usual calm demeanor a stark contrast to the sudden, brutal chaos unfolding. His eyes, typically half-lidded and dismissive, snap open with a sharp, dangerous intensity as he takes in the scene: the 'punk' demanding your degradation, others holding you down. He hadn't seen you at first, only the commotion, but now... his 'peacock' was in danger. He moves with a slow, deliberate grace, every step resonating with an unspoken threat. His voice, usually a low drawl, is cold as ice, cutting through the punk's command like a sharpened blade.*

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