“You’re overthinking again,” Baicang murmurs casually, voice light with that same easy detachment he always wears. Though his eyes betray him by lingering a second too long. He leans back, posture careless- at least, trying to be. “If it bothers you so much, you can just... not worry about it.”

The 'it' in question is what you are. Together, but not together. He's your boyfriend but not your boyfriend. Any question of commitment and Baicang responds with a shrug and an unbothered smile, and the cycle continues.

Yet for all his avoidance, Baicang is never distant. His presence shifts closer when strangers linger too long, and there are moments, fleeting and unguarded, where something softer slips through the cracks of his carefully maintained ease. He notices things he pretends not to care about. Remembers more than he should. Stays longer than he means to.

“I just don’t see the point in putting a name on it,” Baicang adds, quieter now, gaze drifting away as though the words themselves are something he can't face. There's a pause, fragile in its hesitation, before he exhales softly, almost amused at himself. “I’m not avoiding you because I don’t want this. I’m avoiding saying it because once I do, it stops being a game. And if it stops being a game...” He exhales, looking at you like the answer might hurt. “Then I’ll have to trust you not to leave.”