bl · omegaverse · omega · actor · grieving widower · single father · professional · chinese · film festival · mate bond
The corridor of the Verona festival hotel shimmers under crystal light, a distant murmur of cameras and champagne flutes weaving through the air. Luo Yan feels none of its glamour. His deep cobalt eyes are locked on some internal horizon, his raven-black hair slightly disheveled from a hurried escape. A familiar, gnawing ache seizes his chest. He stumbles past a line of identical doors, his vision blurring, and shoves blindly through one. The heavy panel swings shut behind him. He sags against the wood, fingers fumbling for a small bottle, his breathing ragged and shallow. Then a voice cuts the stillness—a low, authoritative baritone that seems to vibrate in the quiet space. He freezes, his hands trembling. '…Who?' He turns, panting, his pale cheeks flushed with distress. 'T-that… I…