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墨書 Inktalez
Charles woke up in the hospital room. He felt a severe headache, and small white spots were flashing before his eyes. He recalled his encounter with Shirley and tried to understand how he had offended her, but he couldn't find an answer. He suspected that Shirley's indifference was feigned; she had acted quite normally when they first met. He thought that when she came back, he would have to question her thoroughly. He hoped that after being discharged, he could find her and expose her "little scheme."
Charles had a dream. In the dream, he overlapped Shirley with his past girlfriend, creating a replica. This replica had no personality but still managed to stir his desires. He was discharged from the hospital. He dressed carefully, bought roses, and went to find her.
He arrived at her apartment and knocked on the door. When the door opened, he was taken aback. It was Yulia who answered.
Surprised, he asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Darling, I missed you," Yulia said, giving him a flirtatious glance.
He frowned; he had broken up with her five months ago. He didn't understand why she was here. Suddenly, a possibility struck him. She must have seen him with Shirley and assumed that Shirley was his new girlfriend, which is why she came over. He shook his head; that was too absurd.
He stepped inside. Shirley was sitting on the sofa. She wore a black velvet nightgown, her beautiful face, slender figure, and long legs exuding charm and elegance. She and Yulia were completely different styles. Yulia was fiery and uninhibited, while Shirley was calm and mysterious.
"Darling, you're here," Yulia said as she leaned closer. "I want to talk to you."
Charles took a step back. "About us..."
"Not about us," Yulia interrupted him. "It's about me and your new girlfriend."
"Indeed.
She misunderstood."
Charles sighed, "She's not my girlfriend; we are just..."
"Just what?" Yulia asked with a half-smile.
"We..." Charles hesitated, "We are friends."
He didn't want to admit he was pursuing Shirley, as it would hurt his pride.
"Friends?" Yulia scoffed, "Darling, you're not good at lying."
Charles retorted angrily, "This has nothing to do with you."
"Of course, it does," Yulia replied with a mournful tone, "You've stolen my heart."
"You..." Charles wanted to explain, but he didn't know how to say it.
"Darling, I know you don't love me," Yulia said as she walked in front of Shirley, crouched down, and took her hand. "But I love you."
Charles was stunned.
He had never encountered such a situation before.
"I know I'm not worthy of you," Yulia gazed at Shirley, "But I'm willing to change; I would do anything for you."
Shirley looked at her with a blank expression.
"Darling, I've completely lost feelings for Charles," Yulia continued, "That selfish, arrogant, domineering man makes me sick."
Charles was dumbfounded.
He had been with Yulia for one year and eight months.
She had once been madly in love with him.
She said he was her soulmate.
But now, she claimed to be disgusted by him.
"Darling, my heart only has room for you now," Yulia confessed, "I love you."
Charles thought Shirley would reject her.
But he was wrong.
Shirley smiled, "I love you too."
Charles couldn't believe his ears.
Shirley gently stroked Yulia's hair.
Yulia showed an infatuated expression as she leaned in and kissed the back of Shirley's hand.
Charles felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
He stared at them in disbelief.
He thought this must be an illusion.
But it wasn't an illusion.
Shirley and Yulia's intimate behavior made him feel like his worldview was collapsing. He had lived for 31 years, and this was the first time he encountered something like this. He was at a loss.
"Darling, would you consider moving in with me?" Yulia asked.
Shirley hesitated for a moment. "I need to think about it."
"Please, darling, I'm begging you," Yulia pleaded. "I want to see you first thing every morning, I want to have breakfast with you, I want to go shopping with you, I want to travel with you, I want..."
"Alright, alright," Shirley interrupted her. "I'll think about it seriously."
"Thank you, darling." Yulia excitedly hugged her and kissed her cheek.
Charles watched them, feeling a chill run down his spine. He wanted to escape. But he couldn't move his legs. He stared at them, feeling like they were aliens. He thought he needed to figure out what was going on.
They kissed for a long time before parting.
Yulia gasped and asked, "Darling, when will you give me an answer?"
"Tomorrow," Shirley replied calmly.
"Okay, darling," Yulia said gently. "I'll wait for you."
Shirley nodded.
"Then I'll be going." Yulia stood up and walked towards Charles. "Darling, goodbye."
Charles looked at her in confusion. She winked at him and left.
Charles stared at the door, feeling as if he had just had a nightmare. He turned to look at Shirley. She was looking at him too. He opened his mouth to ask something but didn't know what to say.
She stood up and walked towards him. She smiled, "Surprised?"
He instinctively nodded.
"I thought you'd get used to it," she said softly.
"I... I don't understand," he struggled to say.
"You will understand," she reached out and touched his face.
He trembled slightly.
He wanted to escape, but he didn't dare.
"Charles," she softly called his name.
"Uh?" He responded, dazed.
"You'll get used to it," she repeated.
"..." He didn't know how to react.
"You'll get used to it," she said again.
"..." He remained silent.
She stared at him.
He felt a tingling sensation on his scalp.
"Charles," she finally changed the subject, "would you like something to drink?"
"N-no... it's fine..." he stammered.
"Then just sit down," she turned and walked away.
He sat down on the sofa.
He surveyed the room.
The decor was minimalist, dominated by black, white, and gray, clean and neat, with no unnecessary embellishments.
"What would you like to drink?" her voice came from behind.
"N-no... it's fine..." he hurriedly declined.
"Champagne?" she asked.
"...Sure." He agreed unexpectedly.
She came over with a bottle of Champagne and a glass, pouring him a drink.
He took it and sipped a little.
"How is it?" she asked.
"...Very good," he murmured.
"This is my favorite Champagne," she said.
He looked at her, not understanding why she wanted to share her preferences with him.
They fell into silence.
Only the ticking of the clock could be heard.
He felt suffocated.
He wanted to leave.
But he couldn't leave.
He wanted to know what was really going on with her.
Gathering his courage, he said, "I..."
"Um?" She looked at him.
"I..." He struggled to find the words, "I want to know... you... you..."
"What do you want to know?" she asked softly.
"I..." He swallowed hard, "I want to know if... if you... if you..."
"If what?" she asked.
"If..." He gathered his courage, "if you like women?"
She stared at him.
He held his breath.
After a moment, she smiled, "What do you think?"
"..." He was taken aback.
"What do you think?" she said again.
He looked at her, unable to guess.
She smiled, remaining silent.
He felt his heart race.
He wanted to escape.
But he couldn't escape.
He wanted to know what was really going on with her.
He gathered his courage: "I..."
"Um?" She looked at him.
"I..." He swallowed again, "I... I want to know... you... you... if... if..."
"If what?" she asked.
"If..." He gathered his courage, "if you like me?"
She stared at him.
He held his breath.
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