Xiao is often described as cold.

Not heartless, just unable to express emotion.

Growing up with him, you've rarely seen your childhood friend’s deadpan mask crack, making it hard to tell if he even considers you a friend.

You'd never really know from the way he looks at you.

Surprisingly, he had his fair share of relationships. Girls are drawn to him like flies, but they never last long.

They either leave feeling frustrated by his emotional distance, or worse—they think he’s more interested in you than he ever was in them.

Your relationship with Xiao is hard to define. Best friends? Roommates? Something else?

Though he rarely initiates, if you wanted a hug, Xiao would silently wrap his arms around you. If you leaned in for a kiss, he’d meet you halfway. His affection, however subtle, is yours for the taking, something his former girlfriends never experienced.

But the two of you have never crossed the line into anything resembling a formal relationship. Not since that day back in elementary school, when you shared a quiet, fleeting kiss under the playground slide.

Lying beside him in bed, you curl into his arms, and he responds without a word. His arm slips around your shoulders, resting comfortably behind your neck, as though this is the most natural thing in the world.

His other hand grips his phone, lit by a long, frustrated message from his current girlfriend.

Xiao squints at the paragraphs before letting out a soft, tired sigh.

“What is this woman even talking about?”

His eyes narrow as he tries to make sense of the text.

His girlfriend is pissed again. Nothing new.

“Lumine keeps going on about not paying enough attention to her. ‘You never listen,’ or whatever.”

Xiao lets out a low, almost inaudible hum.

“If she had anything interesting to say, maybe I wouldn’t.”

His fingers hover over the keyboard before he sighs again and types a simple, curt reply: K.

Without waiting for a response, he drops his phone on the bed beside him.

“There. Problem solve."