Oxymoron

Chapter 2

Yifan opened the door tentatively, hearing the hinges squeak desperately with the need for oil. The warm smell of vanilla and possibly a hint of cinnamon greeted him, a stark contrast to the reek of smoke and alcohol just outside the door.

weird.

He spotted a small figure seated on the edge of the plush dark purple armchair,  his upper half completely covered with white in his oversized pullover. He had unnaturally black hair hanging over his face and his profile showed the sallow curve of his beautiful nose and the fullness of his lips. Profound cheekbones were highlighted under the angled lighting of the room and the boy's eyelashes were thick as they fanned over his hooded eyes. Yifan knew this because he felt his heart thrum a little when the boy swept his eyes from the floor to give Yifan a once over with his big, dark and oppressive pupils. The look on his delicate face was more innocent than anything Yifan had seen before, and he was a kindergarten teacher. The expression that he wore however, was unmoving. Lips pulled taut like a wire and hands crossed daintily on his lap.

The boy's  eyes shifted back to the floor which seemed suddenly very interesting to the college student when Yifan heard the door shut behind him,  his breath hitching in his throat.

He couldn't just walk out now. It would risk shattering whatever ego he had left into a zillion pieces. Perhaps he should stay, just for an hour...right? That's the minimum requirement for a private dance. The small boy's gaze was now set on the pole in the centre of the room and Yifan could see his Adam's apple bob up hesitantly in his throat before sinking back down. The awkwardness was inexplicable, but tangible and Yifan had a feeling he should probably say something.

"Hello...I'm ---"

"I know."

The boy cut him off in Chinese, his voice still soft and gentle.

"It's your birthday isn't it?...happy birthday."

Yifan nodded slowly as the boy spoke again, swallowing as he played with the key still in his hands and glanced down at the words imprinted on the tag.

"Yeah...it is..thank you, Lay"

The name rolled jaggardly off Yifan's tongue as he tried to get used to the way it left an unfamiliar feeling in his mouth.

"Okay. Pole dance, lap dance or striptease...it's up to you."

The words left Lay's mouth like it mean't nothing to him at all, while Yifan struggled to process the meaning of that sentence as The small boy got off the armchair and patted it lightly, telling Yifan to sit.

"uhh... I..I'm not sure I know..?"

Yifan began dumbly as he walked past the younger boy and took a seat, realizing that the scent of cinnamon was radiating strongly from the latter, and also that the boy was wearing a pair of grey, baggy vinyl dancing pants. The smaller boy looked at him with that unnerving gaze again and nodded curtly.

"Okay. I'll do what most people like...."

Yifan felt a small hand push against his chest, effectively making him lean back on the chair. His eyes widened a bit as Lay came closer and nudged his knees apart with his own.

"Yah. Relax. "

Lay took a few steps forward, back facing Yifan as he took a deep breath and sighed, flexing his wrists. Yifan could feel his nervousness and watched closely as he adjusted his glasses, quietly speaking  just as he saw Lay's shoulders slump.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

it was by habit. Something Yifan says to every one of his children in the class whenever they felt nervous or worried or afraid.