Linda's face was as smooth and tender as a freshly boiled and shelled egg. The slightest touch of a fingertip gave the illusion that it might break at any moment. Her long, dense eyelashes, straight and delicate nose, and rosy lips made her breathtakingly beautiful—so beautiful it was intoxicating. As I quietly gazed at her sleeping face, I thought to myself how joyous and blissful it would be if I could truly win her affection.
At that moment, not a single impure thought crossed my mind. I simply felt how much I adored this woman. My fingers, which had been lightly caressing her, stilled, and I just watched her in silence. Drunk, Linda's face was flushed with a delicate pink, making her exceptionally alluring and enchanting. Without the usual mask of her expressions, she looked as peaceful as a little girl. Her long hair cascaded over the soft white pillow. The room's lighting was gentle, casting a hazy glow over the bed and shrouding Linda's body in a dreamlike aura, as if she were a goddess from a fantasy.
As if bewitched, I couldn't help but lean down slowly, wanting to kiss her rosy lips. For the first time, my heart was free of any ulterior thoughts—only filled with deep, tender affection.
But just as my lips were about to touch hers, Linda suddenly mumbled, "So thirsty… I need water…"
I was startled for a second before realizing she was just talking in her drunken stupor. Softly, I replied, "Don't worry, I'll get you some water."
I helped her sit up and fed her a little more mineral water. After drinking, Linda's beautiful eyes fluttered slightly open, as if she had sobered up a bit. She stared at me blankly, her alcohol-addled mind clearly struggling to process things. After a long pause, she let out a drunken, confused murmur: "Andrew?"
"Uh… yeah, it's me."
I was unbearably awkward, too guilty to meet her gaze—not just because I had almost kissed her, but also because I had misunderstood her the week before and lashed out at her unfairly. That's just how I am: bold when I think I'm right, but utterly deflated when I know I'm in the wrong.
"You stupid jerk—"
Linda slurred her words as she cursed me, then, as if overwhelmed by the alcohol, she collapsed into my arms and promptly fell back asleep, snoring softly.
I could only smile bitterly. How could she still remember to curse me even when drunk? Her resentment toward me must run deep. I began to seriously wonder how I could ever earn her full forgiveness.
That night, Linda was restless. In the first half of the night, she kept mumbling about being thirsty in her sleep. In the second half, the aftereffects of the alcohol hit her hard—she grew nauseous, even throwing up at one point. I scrambled to take care of her, even wiping her body clean afterward.
It wasn't until dawn that she finally settled down. After playing nursemaid all night, I was exhausted. To make matters worse, the wound on my left arm—which I had aggravated while cleaning Linda—had started bleeding again from the strain.
Too drowsy to care, I simply lay down beside Linda and fell asleep.
In my hazy dreams, I saw myself getting into university, graduating, and landing a respectable job. Finally, Linda agreed to marry me, and we held a new wedding ceremony. In the church, she pinched my ear and asked if I would love and cherish her, for better or worse, in wealth or poverty, in sickness and health, until death.
Before I could answer, a sharp pain shot through my ear, and I blurted out, "Ow! Stop pinching! Fine, I'll love you until death, okay?"
With that, I woke up to find the room bright with daylight—and Linda very much pinching my ear in real life. Staring at her furious face inches from mine, I stammered, "Qingqing… you're awake."
Linda's gaze was icy, her voice equally cold. "Andrew, you're an animal."
Hearing that, I frowned. "I took care of you all night. How does that make me an animal?"
Linda seemed utterly heartbroken. Her outer clothes had gotten dirty from vomiting the night before, so I had taken them off. Now, she was only in her underwear. Grabbing a blanket to cover herself, she glared at me through tears. "Andrew, confess. What did you do to me last night?"
Last night? Other than taking care of you, fetching water, helping you vomit, and wiping you down, what else could I have done?
I met her gaze without blinking. "What else? I just did what needed to be done."
"You—" Linda turned red with embarrassment and anger, burying her face under the blanket. Her voice trembled with tears. "Andrew, you jerk! Taking advantage of me when I was vulnerable—you're a beast!"
"Linda, how exactly am I a beast?"
I sat down beside her, but she flinched away as if bitten by a snake, curling into a ball under the blanket. "Get away! I never want to see you again!"
I was torn between laughter and exasperation. "What did I even do wrong?"
Linda sobbed, "You took advantage of me while I was drunk… You're not even human!"
My forehead practically sprouted black lines from sheer disbelief. "Whoa, don't slander me like that! When did I ever 'take advantage' of you?"
"You still dare to deny it?" Linda emerged from the blanket, her tear-streaked face accusing as she pointed at the bloodstains on the sheets. "You stripped off my clothes, and these stains prove everything! What more is there to say, you scoundrel?"
Huh?
I looked down and saw the bloodstains. No wonder Linda had jumped to such a conclusion. Amused, I asked her deliberately, "And where do you think this blood came from?"
"You pervert… you bastard!"
Furious, Linda grabbed a pillow and hurled it at me. I didn't dodge—it wasn't like a pillow could hurt.
"Calm down," I said quickly, seeing her teetering on the edge of rage. I pointed at the long wound on my left arm. "You've got it all wrong. That blood isn't yours—it's mine. I got hurt saving you last night, and the wound bled onto the sheets while I slept."
"Ah—"
Linda's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in shock. When she saw the very real, very long gash on my arm, her expression shifted to one of deep embarrassment.
Her face turned visibly red, flushing all the way to her ears. Her tone lost its earlier aggression, and she avoided my gaze, muttering sheepishly, "Then… what about my clothes?"
I smiled. "You puked all over yourself last night. Did you really expect me to let you sleep in filthy clothes?"
Linda peeked up at me, hesitating before asking, "So… you didn't do *that* to me?"
I shrugged, spreading my hands. "You know that joke, right? A man and woman spend the night in the same room. The woman says before bed that if he takes advantage of her, he's a beast. The next morning, nothing happened, and she calls him 'worse than a beast.' Linda, you can call me 'worse than a beast,' but you definitely can't call me a beast now."
"Go die!"
Linda, who had probably already sensed from her own body that I hadn't touched her, now seemed more embarrassed than angry. She grabbed another pillow and threw it at me with full force.
Knowing she was too flustered to handle any more teasing—lest she turn fully furious—I pretended the pillow had hurt me, dramatically falling to the floor with an "Ow!"
My acting must have been too over-the-top, because Linda rolled her eyes. "Stop faking. How did you even find me last night?"
"Well… I've noticed you've been in a bad mood lately. When I saw you enter that nightclub, I was worried something might happen, so I followed you in."
Of course, I couldn't admit I'd been tailing her to check if she was meeting another man. If Linda knew that, she'd probably murder me on the spot. Besides, the fact that she had mistaken the bloodstains for her own meant… well, her 'first time' was still intact. So what was there left to doubt?
Linda, sharp as ever, narrowed her eyes. "Worried about me? Or suspicious I was with another man? Admit it—you were spying on me, weren't you?"
Before I could answer, her gaze fell on the wound on my arm again. Her expression softened slightly. "What happened to your hand?"
I truthfully recounted how a few office workers had tried to take advantage of her the night before and how I'd stepped in to protect her. As she listened, fragments of memory seemed to return to her. Though her face remained stern, the ice in her eyes thawed a little more.