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墨書 Inktalez
In the evening, we got up.
We had dinner.
We decided to go for a walk.
It was gloomy outside.
It seemed like it was going to rain.
We walked slowly along the road.
We chatted.
We talked about each other's childhoods.
We talked about each other's families.
We talked about each other's dreams.
We talked about each other's loves.
We couldn't stop talking.
We reached a bridge.
We stopped and looked at the river's surface.
The river was rippling.
"Shirley," she suddenly called me.
"Yes?" I looked at her.
"I want..." she said softly, "I want to see your apartment."
I looked at her in confusion, "Why?"
"I..." she blushed, "I want to see where you live."
I smiled, "Sure."
I took her back to the apartment.
I opened the door.
We walked in.
We sat on the sofa.
She looked around the living room and said, "It's really beautiful."
"Thank you," I replied.
"Did you rent this place?" she asked.
"No," I shook my head, "I bought it."
She exclaimed in surprise, "You bought this place?"
"Yeah," I nodded.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because..." I said softly, "I wanted to have a home."
She looked at me.
"I don't want to wander anymore," I added.
She fell silent.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She shook her head, "It's nothing."
She lowered her head and stopped speaking.
"Yulia?" I called her name.
She lifted her head and looked at me.
"Are you unhappy?" I asked.
She hurriedly shook her head, "No! I'm very happy!"
"Then why..."
"I..." she hesitated, "I feel like... I feel like you don't really like me."
I was taken aback, "Why do you say that?"
"Because..." she said quietly, "you rarely talk to me."
I fell silent.
"Have I annoyed you?" she said sadly.
"No," I quickly shook my head.
"Then why..."
"I just..." I hesitated, "I don't know what to say."
"You can tell me your story," she said.
"My story?" I asked.
"Yes," she nodded, "I want to understand you."
I looked at her.
I thought I should tell her.
I thought it was necessary to tell her.
"My parents..." I slowly said, "passed away a long time ago."
She widened her eyes.
"I was raised by my grandmother," I said.
She stared at me intently.
"My grandmother..." I continued, "was very good to me."
"She..." she cautiously asked, "is she still alive?"
I shook my head: "She has died."
She was taken aback.
"When she died..." I whispered, "she was holding me."
She stared blankly at me.
"So..." I sighed, "I feel like I should have a home."
She was silent.
"I don't want to wander anymore," I said.
She looked at me.
I thought she understood.
She thought she understood.
“Shirley…” she choked out, “I…”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She shook her head, “Nothing.”
She wiped away her tears.
She smiled at me.
I smiled back at her.
We chatted for a while longer.
We were having a great time.
We talked until late at night.
We returned to the bedroom.
We lay on the bed.
We fell asleep in each other's arms.
8
I started taking Yulia to the club parties.
We were inseparable.
We were close sisters.
We were lovers deeply intertwined.
At the parties, we held hands.
In front of everyone's astonished gazes, we chatted, danced, and flirted as if no one else was around.
“Do you know how Playboy plays with women?” I asked her.
She looked at me in confusion.
“They have a set routine,” I said.
She asked curiously, "What process?"
"They first find a way to get to know you, then invite you to dinner, watch a movie, or go shopping..." I said. "Then, they start hinting that they have a lot of money."
She looked at me.
"They take you to see their mansions and luxury cars..." I continued. "They give you designer bags and diamond necklaces..."
She fell silent.
"And then, they sleep with you," I said.
Her eyes widened.
"And then, they abandon you," I added.
She stared at me in shock.
"They've played with many women," I said. "They're all fools."
Her face turned pale.
"They have a set routine," I said. "They're very skilled."
She lowered her head.
"They're very experienced," I said. "You can't compete with them."
She trembled all over.
"But you don't have to worry," I reassured her. "As long as you're with me, they won't touch you."
She nodded.
She looked at me.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She hesitated and said, "I... I feel like..."
"What do you feel?" I asked.
She hesitated again, "I feel... I feel like I'm worthless."
I was taken aback.
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