Lin Fey dragged a hand through his hair, feeling the silence of the home stronger than he thought he would. It was a different silence than rural China, but still silent, final. For another couple minutes, he stayed at the table, folding all his tension away. Then, he stood, making his way through the home with a bold gait as he found and inspected the most suitable items for his needs--a shirt with enough frill and flow to conceal his gender, a hairbrush, and general things he knew he would want later. Despite his earlier irritation, he dressed himself like a woman, as per their agreement. In the silence, his head felt cool. In the silence, he could accept this outcome more easily. Rather than a quick fight and throw to the streets, he would play this man's wife. Even if the lie lasted until the day he died, he would keep it. That was just the kind of man Lin Fey was.

The second the door opened, he emerged from the patio door he'd been sullenly standing by, arms crossed like he could cover the thing he lacked in his chest. Hair now fully dried from his shower and draped over one shoulder, he stopped in the arch of the main room to watch the other man, acknowledging his words with a simple stare. "Welcome home. Is this shirt...ah, appropriate?" he added, smiling as he struggled for the right word. The lie was in place now. He was this man's wife.