Qin Guanglin was flustered, his face flushing—not out of shyness but embarrassment. With his complex "emotional experience"—a school romance where he'd held hands and shared a few tentative embraces—he prided himself on having some relationship savvy. To be playfully teased by a girl two years his junior felt a little humiliating, almost like a challenge to his masculinity.
Determined to reclaim his dignity, he looked straight ahead, feigning focus on the movie, and casually chewed a handful of popcorn. He reached back for more, only to find his hand bumping against something soft and cool. Realizing it was her hand withdrawing with popcorn, he quickly sipped his carrot juice, fighting off the flicker of panic.
"Eat the popcorn," she said in a low, playful tone, wiggling a piece in front of his face before tossing it into her mouth. Qin Guanglin felt a jab of irritation. Why should he let himself be teased so easily?
He decided to turn the tables. Inhaling deeply, he reached for the popcorn with renewed confidence, crunching it without a second thought. He wasn't here to get flustered—he was here to win, to stay calm, and maybe even enjoy a little victory of his own.
He passed a piece of popcorn back to her, challenging her gaze with a sidelong look, as if to say, *Two can play this game.* To his surprise, she accepted the popcorn quietly, no teasing, no smirk. Instead, she relaxed into her seat, watching the movie peacefully.
Confused and deflated, Qin Guanglin found himself battling an odd sense of loss. She'd backed off. Just as he'd prepared to hold his ground, she'd left him high and dry. He felt like someone who'd been primed for a clever comeback—only to find his opponent had already walked away.
After the movie ended, Qin Guanglin met her at the cinema entrance, ready to walk her home. As they waited at a crosswalk, he thought of the movie's theme. "If you could go back in time, what would you want to change? "He asked.
She tilted her head. "I wouldn't really change anything."
"What about you? ," she asked, glancing up at him as they continued walking.
Qin Guanglin bit back a smirk. He wanted to say, *I'd take your hand right back, make you feel what it's like to get outdone at your own game.* But he only smiled.
And then, as if on cue, he felt a cool, soft hand slip into his. It fit so perfectly that he gave it a gentle squeeze, savoring the moment.
"Go," she urged as the light changed.
As they crossed, he kept holding her hand, her touch sending warmth through him. She gave his palm a playful, feather-light scratch, just enough to make his pulse jump. Startled, he glanced down at her, and she smiled—an innocent, amused smile, but her fingers traced a teasing line along his hand.
He felt a wave of panic, suddenly conscious of her every move. *Is she winning again? *
At her dorm, he found himself reluctant to let go. She smirked, her expression full of mischief, and gave his palm two more gentle scratches with her pinky, sending a shiver up his arm.
"Can't bear to let go?" she teased, her face inches from his. Before he could muster a response, she softly whispered, "I like you, Qin Guanglin. Let's make this official."
As if to prove her words, she leaned up, her lips brushing against his in a delicate kiss—a little sweet, with a faint hint of orange-flavored balm. He froze, his mind blanking, just as she pulled away, flashing him a victorious smile.
He didn't remember the walk home. All he knew was that he'd been soundly outmatched.
When he arrived, his mother looked at him with a pleased expression. "You're back! Where'd you go?"
Qin Guanglin started to answer, then stopped, the taste of her lip balm lingering on his lips. He managed to mumble, "Nowhere, I'm going to bed."
And as he lay in bed, still dazed, he thought, *This isn't just playful teasing anymore.*