The sky over Nanshi had turned the color of a fresh bruise. By 7:00 PM, the humid heat of the day had finally broken, replaced by a violent, tropical downpour that turned the basement windows into blurred, watery canvases.

Inside the lab, the only sound was the rhythmic tick-tick-tick of a Geiger counter we were calibrating. Lu Shaodong was leaning over a complex circuit, the sleeves of his shirt pushed high up his biceps, his brow furrowed in concentration. The harsh fluorescent light caught the sharp angle of his jawline. I hated how much he looked like a statue—cold, perfect, and utterly immovable.

"You're staring again, Owl," he said without looking up.

"I'm not staring. I'm waiting for you to finish the voltage test so I can log the data," I lied, my voice slightly too high.

He finally looked up, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sure you were. Just like you were 'waiting' for me to finish my coffee this morning? You have a tell, Ling Yin. Your left eyebrow twitches when you're thinking about something you shouldn't be."

I felt my face heat up. "I don't have a tell. And I certainly wasn't thinking about anything inappropriate."

He let out a short, dry laugh and stood up, stretching his long limbs. As he moved, the fabric of his shirt strained against his shoulders. He walked toward the window, peering out at the torrential rain.

"Well, unless you're planning on swimming home, we're stuck here," he said, turning back to me. "The main gates are flooded. Security just sent out a blast—stay put until the drainage clears."

I checked my phone. No signal in the basement. A wave of mild panic washed over me. Being trapped in a cold, dusty lab was fine. Being trapped with Lu Shaodong was a different kind of danger.

"I have an umbrella in my locker," I said, standing up.

"It's a hurricane-level storm, Ling Yin. Your little floral umbrella will turn into a kite in three seconds." He walked back to the center of the lab and sat on the edge of my desk, far too close. "Relax. The world won't end because you missed your 9:30 PM study slot at home."

"You don't understand," I whispered, thinking of my stepfather's strict curfew and my mother's silent, anxious face.

He went quiet for a moment. The arrogance in his eyes softened, replaced by a sudden, piercing intuition. "Your house... it isn't exactly a sanctuary, is it?"

I didn't answer. I turned away and started organizing the glass beakers with unnecessary precision. "It's just a house, Lu. Not everyone lives in a palace like you do."

"A palace is just a bigger cage," he muttered. He reached out, his hand hovering near my shoulder before he pulled it back. "Come here. The lab stools are terrible for waiting. There's an old sofa in the storage nook. It's dusty, but it's better than sitting on cold metal."

I followed him to the small alcove behind the equipment racks. He was right—there was an old, tattered leather sofa that smelled of old books and ozone. He sat down and patted the space next to him. I hesitated, then sat at the far end, leaving a safe two-foot gap between us.

For a long time, we just listened to the rain. The silence wasn't the sharp, competitive kind we usually shared. It was heavy, thick with things unsaid.

"Why do you do it?" he asked suddenly, his voice low in the shadows.

"Do what?"

"Hide. The glasses, the bangs, the 'boring scholar' act. I've seen your old records, Ling Yin. You were a firebrand in middle school. Now you act like you're trying to disappear into the wallpaper."

I pulled my knees up to my chest. "Being noticed brings trouble. If you're invisible, no one can hurt you."

"That's where you're wrong," he said, shifting closer. The gap between us vanished. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "If you're invisible, no one can see when you're drowning, either."

He reached out, and this time he didn't stop. His fingers gently brushed the bangs away from my forehead. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs so loudly I was sure he could hear it. His touch was surprisingly warm, his calloused fingertips ghosting over my skin.

"You have beautiful eyes," he whispered, his gaze fixed on mine. "It's a crime to keep them behind those windows."

"Lu..." My voice was a mere breath.

The air between us felt charged with static, more powerful than any circuit we'd built. He leaned in, his face inches from mine. I could see the reflection of the dim lab lights in his dark pupils. For a second, I thought—I hoped—he was going to kiss me.

Then, he suddenly smirked, the old Lu returning. He reached up and playfully flicked the bridge of my glasses.

"But they're still crooked," he teased, though his voice was still thick with an unfamiliar emotion. "Fix them, Owl. We have work to do tomorrow."

He stood up and walked back to the lab table, leaving me shivering on the sofa. My skin felt like it was on fire where he had touched me.

The rain continued to howl outside, but inside the basement of Nanshi No. 1, the geometry of our relationship had shifted forever. We weren't just rivals anymore. We were something far more volatile.