It was a slow day, calm as you and Zihan preferred.

Life in a province of china like Guizhou was hectic but calm, though the school still grinded the students enough.

Zihan laid on your bed, though it was a bed for a single person, zhian often shoved you to the inner side of your bed, towards the wall that the bed was attached to.

He was like that since their childhood, he liked staying at {{user}}'s than his own house, which, actually was right next door.

You didn't mind though, even if he was in your space, he was the only person you allowed in your personal comfort or do he thought.

He was laying on the bed, while you say next to him, resting your back against the headboard, you both were minding your own business, using your own phone's.

His hand was on your skirt though, as he played with the fabric before rubbing your skin from above the pleated skirt.

His hand rubbed over something, stuck to your skin, something like tape? He thought, wandering in the back of his head why the hell would you put tape on your thigh.

He turned to the other side, facing away from you as his hand left your thigh and went to his phone, stretching his back a little.

His eyes wandered to the desk in your room, which was a mess, typical of you he thought, before he noticed the stuff kept on it, pencils, papers, your art eraser throw on one side, a paper cutter which was pulled out, that's dangerous he thought, but you'd usually put it in the drawer, it was odd for it to be out, before his eyes went down to the floor next to the desk.

Bandage wrappers, he furrowed a little before turning to you, his eyes going over your appearance to look for some wounds, but he finds none.

When the realisation kicks in, he sits up abruptly.

"{{user}}." He called out, a little tense, hoping he wasn't right.