Kitchen water source
The crisp sound of dishes colliding echoed in the kitchen.
Wen Lingyi stood in front of the sink, and the water was rushing, washing away the foam on the dishes.
Zhou Jianxing leaned against the cooking table, his eyes unconsciously tense, glued to Wen Lingyi's hands soaked in water.
The well-defined hands appeared even whiter and more translucent in the warm detergent water, their fingertips slightly white and wrinkled from being soaked. The water flowed over the slender fingers, meandering down along the clear outlines of the joints.
Zhou Jianxing always felt that Wen Lingyi was like the expensive porcelain in the window, or the otherworldly model in the picture magazine. The greasy housework was incompatible with her.
She tried to take over several times, but was blocked by Wen Lingyi's eyes.
"If you keep washing like this, your hands will become rough." Zhou Jianxing couldn't help but speak again, genuinely worried. He picked up the pair of brand new latex gloves he had bought and handed them over again, "Put them on? Protect yourself."
Wen Lingyi quickly rinsed the foam off a plate with clean water and placed it steadily in the drainer. Without looking back, she said calmly, "No."
When she renovated the house, she hadn't considered the practical use of the kitchen at all, so a dishwasher was naturally not part of her plan. Looking back now, it was indeed an oversight.
But... she looked down at her hands soaked in water.
The feeling of the warm water wrapping around her fingertips had a strange soothing power, which slightly relaxed her tense nerves.
Since she was a child, she has been a little obsessed with this feeling.
When getting her hair done, Wen Lingyi would often stare at the shampooer's fingers moving through the warm water, passing through the wet hair, with the water flowing between their fingers.
It's a secret, even slightly eccentric, habit, like someone's obsession with the smell of gasoline or a penchant for chewing ice. It has nothing to do with elegance, just a stubborn choice of senses.
If fate allowed her to make her own choice, perhaps she would become a hairdresser, dealing with warm water and soft hair all day long.
Unfortunately, she was born into the Wen family. The coldness of piano keys, the confinement of ballet slippers, the halo of a prestigious school, the identity of an art curator... these were all medals carefully inlaid on the lintel of the Wen family, and she had no choice.
Society is developing rapidly, but it still does not respect the individual's independent choices.
Wen Shuli's arrangements were like an invisible track, and she was running smoothly on it.
This was fine, she sometimes thought. No matter how much you enjoyed something, once it became a career, it would lose its initial luster and become a tiresome repetition.
The trivial task of washing dishes allowed her to reconnect with the forgotten and insignificant self.
·
"It really hurts my hands if I don't wear them." Zhou Jianxing's voice interrupted her thoughts, and he uttered half of the "oh" at the end. "Your hands... are so beautiful."
"Oh? Really?" Wen Lingyi turned off the faucet, and the sound of water stopped abruptly. She turned around and slowly wiped her hands with a clean towel. Her eyes fell on Zhou Jianxing's face, with a hint of amusement: "You like my hands very much?"
Zhou Jianxing's cheeks flushed. Wen Lingyi's gaze was too direct, making her involuntarily recall how those hands wandered and ignited her body.
She looked away in a panic.
Wen Lingyi took a step closer to her, the corners of her mouth raised in a mischievous arc, and her voice lowered a little: "My hands... also like your body."
Her approach brought with it invisible pressure. Zhou Jianxing subconsciously wanted to step back, but his heels hit the edge of the cooking table.
Wen Lingyi had casually thrown that annoying diamond ring into some corner, and her fingers had been smooth all this time.
At this moment, Wen Lingyi stretched out his right hand directly in front of Zhou Jianxing, with his five fingers stretched out, showing them without reservation.
The ulna bone of the wrist is prominent, and the skin on the back of the hand is so thin that the pale blue blood vessels underneath can be seen through.
On the first joint of the index finger, a small black mole is clearly visible, and the index finger and ring finger appear to be almost the same length.
The color of the knuckles is very light, and there is almost no pigmentation. Only in the gap between the index finger and the middle finger, the skin color is slightly darker, with a slight, imperceptible yellowish tint from cigarette smoke.
Wen Lingyi's height was similar to Zhou Jianxing's, and her frame dictated that her hand wouldn't be small. Its distinct joints, slender and powerful, formed a strange contrast with her overly delicate and charming face, as if imbued with some kind of uncompromising power.
Her nails were trimmed extremely short, the nail bed a perfect rectangle, the edges polished smooth and rounded, without a trace of roughness. I still remember when I first met her, Wen Lingyi seemed to have been wearing mirror-finish nail polish, but now it was just neat and clean.
Zhou Jianxing held his breath unconsciously and his throat felt a little tight.
This was the first time she had observed Wen Lingyi's right hand so closely and carefully. Every detail held a strange, almost invasive attraction that fascinated her unconsciously.
Wen Lingyi captured Zhou Jianxing's subtle reaction with satisfaction.
She liked the moist touch of water sliding across her fingertips, and Zhou Jianxing, a blank slate in front of her, seemed to have an inexhaustible source of warm water in his body, which just happened to respond to her secret desire.
Beneath that pure, sweet, innocent face lies an abundant and surprising wetness.
I don't know where so much water comes from.
Wen Lingyi withdrew her hand, crossed her arms over her chest, and took a small step forward, with their toes almost touching.
"Sit down." She raised her chin slightly and pointed to the kitchen workbench behind Zhou Jianxing, her tone as cold and hard as an order.
"Ah?" Zhou Jianxing was caught off guard and his body subconsciously leaned back. The distance was too close, making his heart beat faster.
"I said, sit on it." Wen Lingyi's voice was steady, and he was still calm and composed.
Zhou Jianxing was confused and nervous, but he still did as he was told, tiptoed slightly, and sat back awkwardly on the cold cooking counter.
Wen Lingyi bit her lower lip, nodded with satisfaction, took a step forward, squatted in front of Zhou Jianxing, and skillfully reached for the other's waistband.
"Don't... don't do it here..." Zhou Jianxing's body trembled violently, and his legs instinctively closed together shyly, "... Let's go back to the bedroom, okay?"
Wen Lingyi ignored her protests. Soon, Zhou Jianxing's loose-fitting home pants were pulled down to his calf. The purple-red bruises left by Wen Lingyi's kick had begun to turn blue around the edges, and the swelling had subsided considerably, but the color was still glaring.
Her gaze fell on the scar, pausing for a moment. Then, she lowered her head and gently pressed her soft lips against the bruise. Her tongue, with its warm, moist feeling, slid gently along the edge of the scar.
"Does it still hurt?" Her voice was muffled and came from below.
The gentle touch made Zhou Jianxing's tense legs relax a little. Looking down, he could see Wen Lingyi's thick, curled eyelashes.
"It doesn't hurt anymore." She answered softly, her voice trembling, and it was unclear whether she was afraid or enjoying it.
"Relax," Wen Lingyi said softly. Her left hand precisely grasped Zhou Jianxing's right hand, which was slightly curled up due to nervousness. Her fingers forcefully inserted into the gaps between their fingers, interlocking their fingers. "The countertop is sintered stone, so it's easy to clean."
Every time this happened, Wen Lingyi's bewitching voice would resonate with a certain area in Zhou Jianxing's brain, turning her into her puppet and making her lose her ability to resist.
All the blood in Zhou Jianxing's body rushed to her face. The bright ceiling light in the kitchen made it impossible for her to hide. The feeling of shame was like fine needles piercing her whole body.
"Can you... turn off the lights?" This was her last request, her voice as soft as a mosquito's.
The darkness might provide her with some pitiful cover, allowing her to forget where she is.
"Okay." Wen Lingyi agreed very readily this time. She stood up and raised her hand to turn off the switch of the kitchen ceiling light.
“Pah.”
Darkness fell instantly.
However, it wasn't completely dark. The lights from the restaurant and the hazy glow of the city outside the window seeped in tenaciously through the cracks in the kitchen door and blinds, outlining Wen Lingyi's crouching figure and the cold edge of the countertop.
Zhou Jianxing could still see the general situation, which made her even more nervous.
Darkness amplifies all the senses.
Zhou Jianxing could clearly feel the strength of Wen Lingyi's left hand as her fingers were intertwined with hers. The warm palm was pressed tightly against hers, and the hard knuckles were pressing against hers, holding her captive and preventing her from escaping.
She could only stretch out her left hand impatiently and try to gently push Wen Lingyi's head.
However, even this weak resistance was immediately suppressed. Wen Lingyi's right hand grabbed her wrist forcefully and pressed it hard on her flat belly.
Time seemed infinitely stretched and distorted in the darkness. Zhou Jianxing's back pressed against the smooth tiled wall, the coldness of the touch forming a stark contrast with the burning heat within his body.
After a moment, Wen Lingyi released his right hand.
Switch from lips and tongue to fingers.
Zhou Jianxing couldn't help but cover his mouth with his freed left hand, his fangs unconsciously sinking deep into the soft skin of his tiger's mouth, trying to suppress the breaking sound that was about to burst out from the depths of his throat. His instep was tense and his toes curled up in the cold air.
The second hand was stretched into a rubber band, tugging at her tense nerves.
Wen Lingyi raised her head. She couldn't see his expression in the darkness, but she could see a pair of eyes reflecting a deep light in the dim light.
Finally, Wen Lingyi's hand left her. With a rustling sound, the trousers that had been rolled up to her ankles were pulled back to her waist.
“Pah.”
The kitchen ceiling light came on again, and the dazzling light made Zhou Jianxing close his eyes instantly.
She felt as if all her bones had been pulled out, and she slumped against the cold tile wall, one hand weakly supporting the edge of the countertop, barely able to support her sliding body. Her breathing was sticky and her chest rose and fell.
Wen Lingyi walked straight to the sink, turned on the faucet, scooped up a handful of water, and rinsed her mouth carefully. The sound of running water was particularly clear in the silent kitchen.
The sound of water made her open her eyes again. Zhou Jianxing was still slumped on the cooking table, his eyes were blurry, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were slightly parted, as if his soul had not yet fully returned to its place.
"Come down." Wen Lingyi's voice had a hint of laziness afterward.
Those peach blossom eyes looked over, and there seemed to be lingering desire in their flickering eyes, which made Zhou Jianxing's heart skip a beat again.
Coming back to her senses, she took a deep breath, sat up straight, and tried to lift her legs off the counter.
However, she felt a strong soreness in her calves. The long period of tense posture caused her leg muscles to spasm regularly and she was completely out of control.
She tried twice and failed both times, so she could only continue sitting there awkwardly.
Wen Lingyi understood, and raised the corners of her mouth. She walked to Zhou Jianxing, bent down slightly, stretched one hand under Zhou Jianxing's knees, and put the other hand around her waist and back, trying to pick her up.
However, she obviously overestimated her strength.
Zhou Jianxing's body just shook slightly and did not move at all.
Wen Lingyi tried again unwillingly, even holding her breath for a while, but the result was the same.
She withdrew her hand awkwardly, stood up straight, and coughed twice to cover up the embarrassment at that moment.
"Ahem... I've been too busy with work lately and haven't been exercising much," she said, trying to keep her tone calm. "My strength... doesn't seem to be as good as it used to be."
She paused, her eyes sweeping over Zhou Jianxing. "Zhou Jianxing," she said, trying to shift the focus and avoid putting the blame on herself. "How tall are you? How much do you weigh?"
Zhou Jianxing was originally still immersed in the afterglow and feeling of powerlessness, but when he heard Wen Lingyi's question and saw her pretending to be calm, he couldn't help but lower his head and smile secretly.
She was afraid that laughing out loud would further hurt Wen Lingyi's obviously bruised self-esteem, so she tried hard to hold back her laughter and answered honestly and cooperatively, "1.78 meters tall, 62 kilograms."
A hint of surprise flashed in Wen Lingyi's eyes.
She had a rough idea of the height, but 62 kilograms?
How could this seemingly slender and well-proportioned body in front of her be so heavy? No wonder she couldn't hold it.
She subconsciously took another look at Zhou Jianxing's figure wrapped in loose home clothes.
Catching Wen Lingyi's complicated and incomprehensible look, Zhou Jianxing's heart skipped a beat and he felt uneasy. He quickly asked, "Am I... too fat? If you like to be thinner, I, I can eat less..." There was a hint of caution in his voice.
Wen Lingyi immediately shook her head: "Not fat. Not fat at all." Her eyes fell on Zhou Jianxing's face, and she licked her lips. "It's just right now."
As he was speaking, Zhou Jianxing finally felt some strength in his legs returning. He supported himself on the edge of the kitchen counter and slid down carefully.
She breathed a sigh of relief as her feet landed firmly on the floor again. Then, remembering something, she quickly pulled out a few kitchen towels and frantically wiped the cold countertop she had just sat on, over and over again.
Inevitably, there were some wet sweat stains and water marks left there.
"Let's go to bed." Wen Lingyi naturally took her hand, her palm slightly cool from moisture. She pulled Zhou Jianxing, whose legs were still a little weak, out of the kitchen and turned off the kitchen light.
“Pah.”
The kitchen fell into darkness again, with only the light from the dining room gently spreading out, illuminating the way to the living room.
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