Picking up the three candles on the table, just as Aimou was carefully placing them on the cake, she finally noticed Bologue standing behind the door.
Bologue looked at Aimou expressionlessly, Aimou hesitated, she pretended to be calm, but the halo in her eyes trembled, bent, and shrunk into an ellipse for a moment.
"How... how long have you been here?"
Taking advantage of the optimization needed for her vocal cords, Aimou’s voice carried a calm coldness.
"Since you started applying the cream."
"Why didn’t you... make a sound? Isn’t that like peeping?"
"Hmm? Is it? I was just watching you make the cake, and you were quite absorbed. If I spoke, I’d certainly disturb you."
Faced with Bologue’s answer, Aimou lowered her head, as the atmosphere sank into dead silence, Bologue picked up the Ether monocle hanging around his neck, in his view, Aimou’s body brightened, Ether surged and collided.
"Actually... you can let it out." Bologue removed the monocle, still expressionless.
After a few seconds of silence, Aimou emitted a wail.
Bologue could understand this feeling of shame; when one’s behavior greatly contrasts with their usual self, individuals usually don’t want others to see this hidden side in order to maintain their image.
Solving this dilemma is simple, just achieve consistency between inside and outside.
Bologue felt he was a consistent person inside and outside, he felt whatever he did, whenever and wherever, would always align with his own style, he didn’t need to care about these things at all.
Also like Serey, at first glance, he resembles an elegant ancient noble, but the next second he would be dancing with a steel pipe or wearing a slit shirt up to his navel, mixing drinks for you behind the bar.
You think Serey’s image collapsed, but in Serey’s view, his image is just that, Serey never collapsed, it’s just that you don’t know Serey deep enough.
"What are you thinking?"
A voice came from in front, between Aimou and Bologue was a table with a birthday cake.
Since Aimou wailed, the two sat across from each other, the atmosphere as oppressive as a negotiation table.
"Quite interesting, are you celebrating yourself?" Bologue said.
"Probably...probably..."
Aimou felt ashamed of being discovered, she didn’t even dare to look directly at Bologue, even though Bologue didn’t mind.
Bologue curiously pursued, with a growing understanding of Aimou, Bologue felt Aimou seemed more like a genuine human.
"The teacher doesn’t know," Aimou shook her head, "Every year during the Vow Festival, he leaves."
"So this is your secret?"
Bologue realized this was a secret that belonged only to Aimou, unknown to anyone, but she seemed to have forgotten there was a new tenant here.
"But you don’t have the ability to eat, nor have taste... for you, is this just a ritual?"
Talking about this, as if empathizing with Aimou, Bologue felt a bit sad, this innocent life striving to emulate human behavior, even birthdays.
If Aimou understood the meaning of birthdays, what was she thinking when celebrating her birthday alone?
She meticulously crafted a birthday cake but couldn’t taste it, Bologue hated this powerless and sad feeling, but at this moment, Aimou spoke.
"Do you want to try it?"
She looked at him curiously and pushed the birthday cake towards him.