Everyone Hates My Frail Body.

Chapter 47: Frail Bod

Chapter 47: Frail Body

The night outside the window was shrouded in darkness, a stark contrast to the dimly lit single dormitory.

The bed was small, and the slender, white arm pressed against the mattress strained against Lu Beihuai’s hold. The sleeve of Song Qie’s thin sweater slipped down, revealing a flushed wrist as he struggled against the soft pillows.

Lu Beihuai's hand covered Song Qie's palm-sized face, leaving only his confused, moist eyes visible. They glimmered with innocence, reminiscent of a puppy’s gaze—carefree yet somehow amplifying the tension in the room.

In a playful act of revenge, Lu Beihuai blindfolded Song Qie with a dark tie, obscuring his handsome face and leaving only his delicate features exposed. His hair was tousled, accentuating his flushed cheeks, the color creeping from his face to the tips of his ears and neck.

The blindfold was intended as a punishment, but it transformed the scene into something more visually striking, heightening the sense of vulnerability in Song Qie.

“...Lu Beihuai,” he murmured, the name barely escaping his lips as he sought the other boy’s attention, but his plea was met with a heavy silence.

“It’s so dark,” he added, his voice a soft whisper that disrupted the tension in the air, shaking Lu Beihuai’s resolve.

Song Qie felt the darkness closing in, the dizziness intensifying, creating a dreamlike haze around him. Despite the oppressive sensation of being trapped, he didn’t call for help. Perhaps he sensed who was with him, or perhaps he instinctively understood what Lu Beihuai wanted.

Deep down, he felt a comforting instinct that the boy before him wouldn’t hurt him—that he wasn’t the beast he sometimes feared.

“I’m so sleepy,” Song Qie admitted, his tone almost childlike, completely ignoring the reality of the man who loomed over him.

Lu Beihuai lowered his gaze, captivated by the sight of Song Qie. The boy’s disordered breathing mirrored the turmoil brewing within Lu Beihuai. He tightened his grip on Song Qie’s wrist, yet the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior was a tumultuous storm, threatening to break free.

There was no outlet for the emotions swirling inside him. Lu Beihuai felt as though he were being led astray by Song Qie again, even though the boy lay bound and helpless.

But why did he feel this way? Why was he drowning in emotions, spiraling further into confusion?

Unable to suppress his impulses any longer, he leaned down, burying his face into Song Qie’s shoulder and neck. He turned his face to the side and pressed his lips against the soft skin, tasting the warmth that radiated from the boy beneath him. The sensation ignited a primal urge within him, sending a rush of heat coursing through his veins, igniting a hunger he could no longer contain.

“...It’s so itchy,” Song Qie mumbled, his voice barely a whisper as he felt himself teetering on the edge of sleep. The rhythmic sound of Lu Beihuai’s breathing enveloped him like a soothing lullaby.

Just a sliver of consciousness remained, tangled in the physical sensations of their closeness. A kiss brushed against his nose, gentle yet electrifying, and instinctively, Song Qie leaned in, his nose grazing Lu Beihuai’s lips—cool at first, then warm with desire.

At that moment, the dam within Lu Beihuai broke. Unable to hold back any longer, he kissed his way from Song Qie’s forehead down to his eyes, still hidden beneath the tie, then along his cheeks and finally to his lips.

Each kiss was charged with unspoken longing, every touch igniting the fire that had been smoldering between them, transforming the moment into something undeniably intimate.