[ yingxing knows he's not making it up. he can't be. the way dan feng's breath hitches quietly.. it makes his abdomen tighten and his chest constrict. gods, he's such a creep. plenty of men his age pursue younger partners, sure, but he's never been that type - even still, he feels the electric current that runs between them, thick and warm as syrup.

but he's been called an arrogant man, before. maybe he is making more of it than there truly is. ]

Professional student, huh?

[ he chuckles lightly under his breath as he stows away his charcoals and conte crayons, then carefully breaks down his easel, tucking it beneath one arm. the room is all but deserted by now, and yingxing can't - and shouldn't - make up excuses to linger, however much he wants to. ]

It was good seeing you again. My door's open when you're ready for that next tattoo, yeah?