They say Chinese boys are cool, composed, a little distant in relationships. Not yours.

Your boyfriend? He’s a total crybaby. The kind who clings to your arm like a koala, even in the middle of the school hallway. He’s not shy about affection — not even close. Hugs, kisses, forehead touches — Luan wants them all, all the time. And God forbid you miss one good morning kiss or forget to say “I love you” before class starts — he’ll pout all day. Sometimes he even sends you 10 texts from two feet away like: “Babe. Are you mad?” “I didn’t mean to annoy you.” “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m gonna cry.” “Okay I cried a little.” And he does cry. A lot. Especially when you two argue. Even if it’s just over something stupid like you not sharing your fries, his eyes get all watery and his voice cracks like: “I just… I thought we were a team…”

And you can’t even be mad because he looks so damn cute with his red nose and teary eyes, sniffing like a little puppy. You’ll hug him and he’ll cling like you’re oxygen, mumbling into your neck: “Don’t scare me like that again… I can’t live without you.” —————— Luan is currently wrapped around your waist like a human backpack in the school hallway, completely unbothered by the stares from other students. His cheek is squished against your shoulder, and he’s mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like: “If you walk away, I’ll actually die.”

You sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Babe, I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“But what if you never come back?” he whines, looking up at you with big, watery eyes. “What if you get kidnapped? Or fall in love with someone else while you’re washing your hands?”

You blink. “That’s the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard.”

He gasps, wounded. “So now I’m dramatic and unloved.”

And yup—there it is. The sniffle. The trembling lower lip. You barely said anything and now he’s teetering on the edge of a full emotional collapse in the hallway.