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墨書 Inktalez
He was sitting with a few men and women, drinking and chatting happily. When I saw him, he also noticed me. He said something to his friend, then stood up and walked towards me.
"Hi," he greeted.
"Hello," I replied.
"How are you?" He looked me over.
"I'm good," I said.
"You look tired," he remarked.
"I am indeed tired," I admitted.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I have a lot of work," I explained.
"You should find something else to do," he suggested.
"Like what?" I inquired.
"Like finding a boyfriend," he replied.
"Haha," I laughed, "I'm not so lonely that I need a boyfriend to fill the void."
"But you're lonely," he insisted.
"Am I lonely?" I pointed at myself, "Which of your eyes sees me as lonely?"
"Both of my eyes," he answered.
"You're wrong," I scoffed, "I'm not lonely."
"Then why are you here?" he asked.
"I'm here because I want to drink," I said.
"You drink because you're lonely," he stated.
"You're mistaken," I stared at him, "I drink because I want to."
"You drink because you're lonely," he insisted.
"You're wrong," I raised my voice.
"You're lonely," he said.
"You're wrong!" I shouted.
Everyone turned to look at me.
Charles watched me, his expression calm.
I realized I had lost my composure, so I took a deep breath to calm down.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"You're lonely," he replied.
"You're wrong," I said again.
"You're lonely," he stubbornly insisted.
"You're wrong," I glared at him.
"You're lonely," he said once more.
"You're wrong!" I gritted my teeth.
"You're lonely," he said calmly.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then another deep breath.
I opened my eyes and looked at him: "You win."
He smiled.
I turned and walked away.
I shouldn't have argued with him.
Because he doesn't understand me at all.
He doesn't understand my loneliness.
He doesn't understand my pain.
He's just a stranger.
I shouldn't have had any expectations of him.
I walked out of the bar, and a cold wind hit me, making me shiver.
I wrapped my coat tighter and hurried toward the parking lot.
I drove away.
I won't be coming back.
I won't come here again in the future.
Charles felt very confused.
He checked his attire, confirming that he looked polished and presentable.
However, Shirley seemed oblivious to his charm.
He noticed that Shirley showed no interest in his personal belongings.
This made him uneasy.
He was used to attracting women through material possessions.
Shirley's unusual behavior made him start to doubt whether she was truly uninterested in him.
He believed that Shirley should be attracted to him.
After all, he was handsome, wealthy, and charming.
He had always been successful with women.
He recalled his romantic history.
Having read Freud's theories, he firmly believed that Shirley's familiarity with firearms indicated her admiration for male power.
Therefore, she couldn't possibly be a virgin.
He thought that women inherently had a submissive nature, yearning to be controlled.
He had successfully used this understanding to dominate countless women.
He felt that Shirley would be no exception.
He decided to take action.
He grabbed Shirley's wrist and dragged her to the terrace.
He wanted to conquer her.
He wanted her to know that he was the master.
The wind on the terrace was strong, tousling Shirley's hair.
She stared at him, her gaze calm.
He suddenly felt a bit flustered.
But he couldn't show it.
He struggled to maintain his composure.
"Shirley," he began, his voice gentle, "I have become curious about you."
She remained silent.
"I swear," he continued, "I will treat you well; I am willing to change for you."
She still did not respond.
He grew a bit impatient: "Why won't you believe me?"
She sneered slightly, "You're such a fool."
He was taken aback.
He had never been insulted like this by a woman before.
Anger surged within him.
His pride was wounded.
He glared at her, his expression turning sinister.
"What did you say?" he asked in a low voice.
"I said, you're a fool," she replied coldly.
"Say it again," he threatened.
"I said, you're a fool," she said fearlessly.
"You’re asking for death!" he roared.
He lunged at her, pinning her against the wall and kissing her forcefully. He had intended to conquer her gently, but she had angered him. He didn't care about her feelings; he just wanted to vent his rage. As he kissed her, he felt her lips soft, moist, and sweet. But before he could fully enjoy it, a sharp pain struck him.
She roughly squeezed his neck, smiling at him. He looked at her and found her gaze icy. With a sudden force, she slammed him against the wall. He felt a pain in his back and couldn't help but groan. But this was just the beginning. She struck the back of his head with the butt of a gun.
He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, nearly making him vomit. She released him. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. The pain was intense. His vision darkened. He felt the world spinning around him.
"Idiot," she spat coldly, turning to leave. He stared at her retreating figure, feeling an overwhelming sense of humiliation and anguish. He couldn't bear it. He wanted to escape this place. He wanted to rid himself of it all. Struggling to stand up, dizziness and nausea hit him again; he couldn't hold on any longer and passed out.
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