She pressed her down and tried to kiss her

The narrow hallway was silent,
making the rustle of the plastic bag louder,
scattered cigarette shells falling nearby,
suit pants pressing into black jeans,
shirts clinging together,
creasing in messy folds.

The intruder didn’t hold back,
red-heeled shoes stepping forward,
forcing the pudding-dog slippers to retreat
until their heels pressed against the iron door.

Her hand hooked Xu Fengluan’s neck,
coiling like vines,
loose hair brushing her collarbone,
ragged breaths grazing her neck,
the faint tang of red wine spreading.

“Don’t…”

The husky voice,
like a lover’s whisper,
sent a tingling sensation up her ear.

It happened too fast—
Xu Fengluan forgot to react,
her tense spine pressed against the iron door,
its raised patterns digging painfully.

“You…”
She tried to speak.

Slender fingers threaded through her white hair,
the hand on her neck sliding to her nape,
pressing down gently.

The heels stepped closer,
until no space remained.

Liu Tingsong tilted her head up,
kissing the corner of Xu Fengluan’s lips.

Words she hadn’t spoken were silenced.

Xu Fengluan’s eyes widened in shock,
catching, through glass lenses,
the mole at Liu Tingsong’s eye.

The woman from the phone screen
was now in her arms,
pressing against her,
trying to kiss her.

Warm fingertips trailed downward,
curving knuckles descending slowly,
soft lips pressed tightly to hers,
the taste of red wine filling faint lines,
probing to part her lips,
seeking deeper.

An absurd moment.

Repressed emotions broke free,
her so-called rationality crumbling
with each encounter,
shattered alongside the torn cigarettes,
scattered on the floor.

Xu Fengluan’s expression hardened,
grabbing Liu Tingsong’s wrist,
pushing her forward effortlessly.

Pudding-dog slippers advanced,
forcing the heels to retreat.
The seemingly dominated
was the true controller—
when she stepped back,
the older woman was blocked by the wall,
unable to approach;
when she pressed forward,
the older woman followed, retreating.

Footsteps relit the voice-activated lamp
as it flickered back on.

Xu Fengluan pushed harder,
flipping their positions.
Liu Tingsong slammed against the iron door,
her wrist pinned above her head,
trapped in an inescapable hold.

“What are you trying to do?”

Her shirt sleeve slid,
revealing a forearm,
muscles subtly taut,
lines smooth and defined.

No surprise—
a bassist training for years
couldn’t be as frail as she looked,
or she’d never finish a song,
let alone sing and play a full set.

She closed in unconsciously,
narrowing the distance.

One looked down,
the other up,
eyes meeting through clear lenses.

“What game are you playing?”
Xu Fengluan repeated,
her tone laced with anger and mockery.

Her overly thin frame,
pressed close,
wasn’t soft as expected—
bones wrapped in thin skin
like blunt thorns,
pressing everywhere,
the iron door hard behind,
mirroring her trapped state.

The voice-activated lamp dimmed again,
darkness creeping in,
only faint room light outlining their forms.

“You…”
Liu Tingsong tried to speak,
but said:
“You smoked?”

The chewed tobacco’s taste was as strong as smoking,
not leaving a full-body stench,
but lingering on her tongue despite rinsing,
Xu Fengluan planning to grab gum after tossing the trash,
only to be trapped at her own door.

“None of your business.”

Xu Fengluan showed no mercy,
her voice ice-cold:
“What’s it to you?”

Though not the first time hearing such words,
Liu Tingsong stiffened.

“What are we?
Need me to spell it out?”

The grip on her wrist tightened,
like iron clamps locking down.

Xu Fengluan scoffed coldly,
enunciating:
“Senior.”

She added:
“Teacher Liu.”

The title she hadn’t said in the day
finally spilled out,
reminding Liu Tingsong
their bond was no closer than strangers’.

“Don’t…”
Her eyes shattered,
Liu Tingsong pleaded, looking up.

“Don’t…”

Her updo unraveled in the struggle,
hair spilling loose,
rimless glasses slipping,
her once-cool eyes brimming with tears.

“Don’t push me away, please,”
whether from alcohol or Xu Fengluan’s rejections,
her emotions collapsed,
words she’d never spoken
spilling out.

“A-Feng…”

The familiar nickname struck a nerve,
Xu Fengluan’s face growing colder,
her jaw a sharp line.

Those words didn’t ease her—
they fueled her rage at Liu Tingsong’s tears.

Why?!

She was the one abandoned!
The one foolishly searching for half a month!

If she hadn’t seen Liu Tingsong’s departure abroad,
how long would she have kept looking?!

Did she deserve to cry?

Leaving without a word,
then reappearing out of nowhere…

Words squeezed through her lips,
carrying hate she hadn’t even noticed:
“Am I that cheap?”

“In your eyes, am I that cheap?”

“A dog you call and dismiss at will, huh?”

“No, no,”
Liu Tingsong denied frantically:
“Don’t think that.”

Xu Fengluan shot back:
“Then how should I think?”

“Tell me, how should I think?”
She repeated,
hate seeping from her bones,
grinding through her.

“It’s me—”
Liu Tingsong started,
then stopped,
saying:
“It’s my fault.”

Her voice softened:
“Don’t push me away.”

“Don’t do this…”

“Why,”
Xu Fengluan cut her off.

Exactly—why?
Why could she come and go as she pleased,
dragging her back and forth?

Some unknown strength surged,
Liu Tingsong broke free,
stepping forward,
kissing her again.

Her lips pressed deeper into the corner,
intensifying the earlier mark.

A sobbing murmur:
“Please…”

Before she finished,
Xu Fengluan reacted,
shoving her back,
slamming her against the iron door.
The hand on her wrist released,
grabbing her neck instead,
leaning in to kiss her lips.

The hairpin fell,
hair spilling free,
glasses nudged up by her nose.
Someone bit her upper lip,
lipstick smearing,
deepening into scarlet.

The iron door creaked under pressure,
but the contact—
less a kiss, more a bite—
didn’t break.

Oxygen was stolen,
the harsh tobacco taste crushing her tongue,
the hand on her neck tightening,
unrelenting.

Liu Tingsong didn’t resist,
actively hooking Xu Fengluan’s neck,
like before,
like countless times before,
pressing her fingertips into the gaps of her knuckles,
pulling her closer.

White hair tangled with black,
shirts pressed together,
buttons clashing,
pudding-dog slippers stepping on high heels’ tips,
scattering tobacco papers.

Rust tinged her tongue,
the faint red wine taste long gone,
replaced by another’s flavor.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway,
a loud step relighting the voice-activated lamps.

Some neighbor,
hurrying home late.

Liu Tingsong glanced up,
tears in her eyes finally falling.

“A…”

The last syllable was swallowed.

As punishment,
sharp canines bit the already-broken wound,
the rust taste deepening.

—Tap, tap.

Chaotic footsteps and chatter rose,
more than one person,
likely a family.

The nearing distance
made Liu Tingsong tense,
pushing Xu Fengluan lightly.

But Xu Fengluan ignored it,
pressing closer,
deliberately defiant.

Lips met and parted,
making faint wet sounds.

“Someone…”
Liu Tingsong tried again.

The hand on her neck tightened,
her tongue bitten,
her hand on Xu Fengluan’s shoulder weakening to a limp drape.

Xu Fengluan knew,
but did it on purpose.

—Tap, tap.

The footsteps grew closer,
a girl talking about school,
her mother responding softly.

Teeth clashed,
shirts rustled against each other,
sounds usually unnoticed
now glaringly loud.

Her lip bead glistened,
bitten again.

Fingers tugged her hair’s ends,
releasing without force.

“Fatty keeps stealing my eraser.
I told him it’s mine,
he can borrow it but has to return it.
He won’t listen.”

The child’s voice was indignant.

The gentle mother soothed:
“Maybe Fatty really likes your eraser?
Or he took it by mistake…”

“No! No! He did it on purpose!”
The child retorted.

They were close enough to hear clearly.

But Xu Fengluan didn’t pull back,
maliciously pressing tighter.

The other stopped resisting,
as if resolved,
tilting her head,
leaning in more.

The night breeze stirred,
flipping the tobacco papers,
the high heels retreating further,
their thin heels wobbling briefly.

“How about Mommy talks to the teacher tomorrow?”

“Huh? Will the teacher scold him…”

The mother and daughter were one floor away.

Liu Tingsong closed her eyes,
letting Xu Fengluan continue.

“She might, but it’s bad behavior…”

Liu Tingsong didn’t hear the rest.
The hand on her neck released,
grabbing her wrist to yank her inside.
A loud “bang” followed—
the iron door slammed shut.

The heels twisted,
making Liu Tingsong stumble,
catching the wall to steady herself,
though her ankle still twisted.

She didn’t care,
looking up at Xu Fengluan.

As if asking why she stopped.

Xu Fengluan stayed silent,
her eyes dark in the shadows,
emotions unreadable,
heavy with suppression.

The mother and daughter’s voices outside
grew louder, then faded.

Inside, neither spoke,
their ragged breaths alternating,
weighed with heaviness.

Soon, the voices outside vanished.

Liu Tingsong stepped forward,
trying to close the gap again.

But Xu Fengluan pushed her back,
stepping forward,
her raised hand brushing Liu Tingsong’s cheek,
her thumb wiping the mole at her eye.

She’d fixated on it for who knows how long.