53. One night
She didn't play any music, and the only sound in the room was the background sound of the movie, but the song continued to play in their minds at the same time, and they resonated with the popular and well-known chorus.
"The silent kiss/invades my heart"
Two people, two pairs of eyes, four flames, like wildfire, burning from sky to earth, unstoppable, the world spinning, falling into each other's arms, not knowing what day it was.
He tried to pull her closer, but he was too strong, and her teeth knocked against his lower lip, causing him to gasp in pain. She couldn't help but push him away, slumping over the back of the sofa, laughing so hard her whole body shook, unable to get back into it.
"You're a good kisser." She finally stopped laughing.
"Thank you, thank you." He said dejectedly, "You know how much of a blow to a man's self-confidence it takes to laugh out loud at this moment. If I'm left with any psychological scars, you're the culprit."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
That's the downside of being close. He burst out laughing. This kiss felt like a thousand dreams, a familiar, silky, soul-stirring kiss, so familiar and smooth in dreams, so soul-stirring that even when he woke, he'd savor it in the darkness for a long time. But now, he burst out laughing. That moment seemed to have slipped away.
He suddenly asked bitterly, "Do you know what's the most beautiful thing about you?"
"Well, now it's your turn to stare at me. You're so vindictive."
He leaned over, pulled up her calf, and placed it horizontally on his leg: "Hasn't anyone told you that your gastrocnemius and soleus muscles look great?"
"Crazy...are you here for a kiss or a dissection?"
He said with a tone of happy revenge: "Come, let's enjoy it together."
She lowered her head. She hadn't paid much attention to sun protection, and the sun had been particularly harsh this summer, so her light tan hadn't completely faded yet.
"The muscles are nicely shaped, showing the quality of a lot of weighted calf raises, but they're not too skinny. A thin layer of fat over the muscles is ideal, otherwise they'll look skinny."
"Stop talking..." She covered her face again, her voice so thin it was almost inaudible. Even if she was narcissistic, she had never analyzed herself like this.
"Is it? Being torn apart and crumpled like this, even praise is strange."
"Okay, I was wrong. I'll never praise you again."
He thought she would probably never meet another person who praised her gastrocnemius and soleus muscles. There was no one before and no one after. At least in a certain dimension, he could be the only one in her life.
She slipped her hand under the hem of his thin cashmere sweater and gently grasped his lower back. He suddenly felt a little shy: "I gained three kilograms in the winter. I will lose it before summer."
"Why do men care so much about beauty? Love handles feel nice too. Oh, and I have a favor to ask."
"good."
"Could you please wear formal attire next time?"
"Isn't this one good-looking?" This man's love for beauty was even greater than hers.
"That's fine, of course. But a gentlemanly villain is also good, and a celibate husband is also good. Don't you think it's particularly exciting to rip a tie off with one hand?"
"The hotel has it. I'll go change it now." He made a gesture to get up.
"You won't be frozen to death in this weather." She said hard on the outside but soft on the inside, holding him tightly.
Suddenly, a rare feeling of tenderness and sweetness rose in his heart: "I want to hear about your childhood."
Perhaps every relationship begins, or truly begins, with a night like this. It might not be the first night together, but there's always that special night when neither of them can bear to sleep, their minds racing. No sooner has one topic finished than another begins, the conversation rambles on and on, back and forth, endless words and secrets to share. Everything the other person has experienced becomes important: every hobby, every heartbreak, the tears of a broken friendship in childhood, the long-lasting grief over a parent's words. Life's events, big or small, are more important than the US presidential election, than the hoisting of a No. 8 typhoon signal, than a 5% stock market crash, than the melting of the Arctic ice.
You and I are but one of the six billionth most ordinary people on Earth, yet we shine brightly on this night, and everything we do deserves global coverage. Adult women and grown men regress to childhood, becoming little children defenseless against the real world. This isn't a show of weakness or coquettishness; it's a moment of genuine weakness, of smallness, in need of protection, understanding, and love.
Vivian firmly stated that a relationship would be incomplete without such a night.
Each of them had their own concerns, yet they tacitly understood each other, wanting to drag out the inevitable, inevitable event for as long as possible. It was like when she was a child, she'd always save her favorites for last in a box of candy. She once fell asleep with a candy bar in her mouth, and when she woke up, her cheeks were still hard. Perhaps this bad habit had contributed to her childhood tooth decay.
Hearing this, he touched her cheek and said, "Fortunately, it was when I was a child. Now my teeth are even straighter than a shark's."
To both of them, everything about this evening felt incredibly familiar, as if they'd rehearsed it countless times in dreams. There was no sense of strangeness or awkwardness, yet there was no need to rush straight to home base. There was no need to pretend to be presentable, like many dates, going through everything from hobbies to professions, from astrological signs to MBTI, and pretending to be genuinely interested. In reality, both parties knew exactly what the date was all about. But, honestly, this was only the first time they'd actually kissed and hugged. Those previous hugs of "long live friendship" didn't count.
The story stretched from eight to eighteen, seemingly endlessly. His hand caressed her calf, but he didn't take the opportunity to continue upward. She looked down at his hand, the bony hands she had peeked at more than once, the bulging blue veins on the back extending all the way to her forearm. She pressed lightly, perhaps it was an illusion, but the blood surged with an unusual intensity.
His palms, covered in calluses, repeatedly rubbed against the skin of her calves, sending a tingling sensation all the way to her tailbone. She found the scene strangely alluring.
"What...are you doing?" This time it was her turn to ask the question.
"Shh." He treated her in her own way, stroking her calf inch by inch very solemnly, just as she had just observed him carefully.
She interrupted: "My legs hurt from wearing high heels, could you please give me a massage?"
He did as he was told, but with a little force, her calves became sore and swollen, and she begged for mercy: "Stop, stop, stop, it hurts."
"The master has already clocked in. It cannot be cancelled at will." He said even more forcefully.
"Just finish the movie, please." She pleaded softly.
"What kind of movie is this? It's worth being so obsessed with it." Even so, he still gently put her down. She threw all the cushions on the sofa aside to make room, and they lay down sideways and continued watching the movie.
The sofa was so narrow that the two of them sat like two stacked spoons. He didn't dare move, his back pressed tightly against the backrest. She seemed oblivious and pulled his arm around her. His fingers landed on the exposed skin at her waist, and he didn't move.
He sighed: "Even...you can't test me like this."
She ignored him and said, "Believe it or not? I dreamed of the exact same scene."
"Believe it or not? I had that dream too." His fingers unconsciously stroked her waist, "But my dream is different from yours."
"What?" she demanded.
He held both of her hands in his own, and then spoke:
"I can't tell you the content of my dream."
"You...are going to die." She subconsciously waved her hands to hit him, but her hands were firmly grasped by him and she could not move.
Her face suddenly flushed and she whispered, "Don't grab my wrist."
Seeing her suddenly serious, he quickly let go of her hand: "I'm sorry, are you hurt?"
She didn't answer, but looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears and her cheeks were a strange pink that was about to burst out.
He suddenly understood.
///
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