Every Single Thing I Touch || HeartLiming "Moonlight Chicken"

4. Hold On

By the time Liming finally made it to the convenience store where he was part-timing, it was close to three. He locked his bicycle before walking inside, and upon the door opening, P'Taro—the shopkeeper's unemployed son, who was working part-time whenever Liming wasn't—looked up from the cashier. Liming waied him, respectfully as Taro's face lit up.

"Ming, you're early today" he said, standing up from the register as Liming blinked at him before looking over at the clock.

"I actually had to go somewhere, Phi" Liming replied, walking towards the staff room, "That's why I got a little late"

"Ah, it's completely fine, Ming. Don't worry, dad won't know" Taro assured him with a gentle smile.

Liming thanked him silently before dropping his bag to his arm and opening the locker assigned to him. He pulled out the bright blue vest before plunging his backpack inside. Brushing his forehead, Liming walked towards the sink to wash his face a little. He stared at his reflection, taking in his haggard appearance with a sigh. As he pulled out his shirt, he noticed how his shorts were starting to hang low on his hips too. He was losing weight faster than he used to, when he played football. He didn't even touch a football now, and the muscles he built day after day were shrinking. He raised his shirt to stare at his abs that were starting to flatten into his stomach.

Sighing, he turned around and gasped, seeing Taro watching him—leaning against the door. Liming's breath hitched, his body stiffening with the discomfort that had become all too familiar.

"Phi?" Liming asked, as he shivered with the sudden uncomfort he was feeling.

Taro's gaze was a smoldering weight on his skin, the man's eyes shamelessly roaming over him. Liming's heart raced, fear and disgust churning in his gut. It wasn't the first time Taro had looked at him this way, but recently, it had escalated—Taro's subtle advances growing bolder, more intrusive. It was time for him to leave, since Liming was taking over, but he made no move towards his locker. He just stared. Liming watched the other man's eyes run all over his torso, and felt as if his body was on fire. Liming felt trapped, the urge to flee battling against his desperate need for the money this job provided.

"Do you work out, Ming?" Taro asked, uncrossing his arms that were curled on his chest, as he took small steps towards Liming.

Liming gripped the sink, knuckles whitening as he forced himself to meet Taro's gaze. "Not anymore, Phi," he replied, his voice tight.

"You look toned," Taro said, his voice low, predatory. He stopped just inches from Liming, eyes gleaming with something that made Liming's skin crawl. "Are you sure?"

Every muscle in Liming's body tensed, a primal urge to lash out surging through him. He wanted to punch the smug smile off Taro's face, to make him feel a fraction of the fear and discomfort he was causing. But before Liming could react, the doorbell rang, the sound cutting through the tension like a lifeline. Liming exhaled shakily, stepping away from Taro as he grabbed his vest and rushed out of the staff room, barely suppressing a shudder. What if that bell hadn't rung? Would he have been able to stop whatever was about to happen?

"Welc—" Liming began with a forced smile, relief flooding him—until he saw who had walked in.

Heart. What the hell was he doing here?

Heart's eyes locked onto him, cold and calculating, as his friends—or minions, as Liming bitterly thought of them—fanned out around the store. Liming's heart sank, his forced smile slipping away as he saw Heart grab a pack of Snickers from the shelf and toss it at the register. Liming barely caught it, his hands trembling as he started working the register, wishing he could be anywhere but here.