Her phone rang time after time, seemingly testing her patience. Going back and forth between her hanging up and him calling again, her fury sprang into life. She eventually accepted the call and snapped, "What are you trying to do?!"
"Get out!" Having over 20 calls of his being rejected by her, his voice was similarly filled with resentment.
She was confused and asked in distaste, "What are you barking at in the middle of the night?"
"I'm outside your house."
She rushed to the window and was shocked to see an Aston Martin parked outside. Mu Yazhe was supporting a phone to his ear and leaning his rangy figure against the hood of his car. He had a cigarette held at the corner of his lips.
The flickering and imperishable flames on his stick were particularly striking in this darkness.
Gazing from afar, the man had his head inclined, and his entire being radiated an indefinable loneliness.
For some reason, the him now was stripped off his past high feather and appeared a little distressed. This sight somehow pierced through her heart.
She ended the call and returned to her bed. This time, her ringtone did not buzz anew. She was baffled by this.
Was he gone?
She felt an inexplicable unease spread in her heart, and before she could think further on her action, she was already beside the window once again. She lifted a corner of the curtains and looked in to the distance, only to see him still present. Besides smoking a new stick, his posture was unchanged.
He seemed rather distressed tonight as he lit up one cigarette after another.
He took a drag on his smoke and raised his head in her direction.
She put down the curtain in a hurry, her heartbeat becoming slightly irregular.
She hesitated for a while, then she finally put on an outerwear and headed outside.
The passing late-night breeze sent a chill coursing through her body.
Feeling a little uneasy, she stood at the door and lightly tugged at her clothes. She glanced over at the man leaning against the front of his car. A long silence was held between them.
Seemingly a century later, she spoke.
"Why are you here?"
He peered at her face; his eyes were indecipherable as he stayed silent.
"If you have nothing to say, then I'm going back in!" she said in a fit of pique. Turning around and pushing the door open, she was about to enter her house when his voice rang out. "Stay there!"
She stopped her steps but did not turn to face him.
He straightened his posture and stubbed out his cigarette. He then spoke in a rather hoarse voice. "Come over and let me hug you!"
Her back stiffened a little. She spun around in a daze but did not go striding over to him.
What was the meaning of this?
He suddenly appeared in front of her house looking frail and looked as if he could not withstand a single blow. Did he do all this just to solicit a hug from her?
"Come over and let me hug you," he reiterated with a hint of compromise in his voice. "Five minutes will do!"
She pondered on it for a while and eventually made her way to him.
She had just arrived before him when he stretched his arm out and drew her into his chest. He hugged her tightly.
His arms increasingly tightened around her, and he appeared to be quite in a frenzy. It was as though he were dying to fuse her into his blood and bones; his embrace was nearly suffocating!
Feeling a little uncomfortable, she struggled a little.
His forbearing voice reverberated from the crown of her head at this point. "Don't move!"
She lifted her eyes, just in time to see his handsome face inch close to hers.