"What’s the deal with the tattoo on your hand?"
He asked casually, at most just curious.
With someone like Nora Scott’s personality, getting a tattoo wasn’t surprising, but the meaning of the word inked... made him slightly concerned.
"Oh," a peanut finally found its way to her mouth, Nora sighed in relief, tossed her chopsticks on the coffee table, and said lazily, "To commemorate my first love."
To commemorate first love.
The offhand tone wrapped these four words like a bomb, and suddenly, it felt as if something exploded in his mind, stirring an inexplicable shudder that spread from his head to his spine, limbs, and throughout his entire body.
There was a brief moment of blankness in his thoughts.
Soon after, squatting down beside Nora, Pedro Langley’s eyes were deep, his expression grave, with a barely noticeable frown between his brows. He softly asked, "Why?"
Nora seemed puzzled as she looked up.
Her dark eyes brightened, but her drunkenness intensified. She frowned, and after a while, asked, "It’s my first love after all, isn’t it worth commemorating?"
His Adam’s apple rolled, Pedro’s voice slightly deepened, "Just like that?"
"Do I need many reasons?" Nora retorted.
On the day she broke up with Pedro Langley, she passed by a tattoo shop. It was newly opened by a friend, so she went in to support. Up until the flamboyant owner asked her, she hadn’t decided what to get, but at that moment, she thought of Pedro Langley and blurted out the word.
End, marking the farewell to this relationship, perhaps with some one-sided factor involved.
But regardless of its meaning, for her, it was merely a spontaneous decision.
Pedro Langley watched her intently.
A plethora of complex emotions collided and merged, eventually giving way to a sense of helplessness in the silent gaze.
Losing the thought of fighting with the peanut, Nora dragged her sleeve down and tried to get up with her unsteady body when she suddenly heard Pedro Langley’s inquiry—
"Where did you get it done?"
The night grew darker.
The bedroom lights were off, the curtains drawn, blocking out the outside light, with only the open door allowing some illumination in, outlining the room’s contour.
Pedro Langley walked to the doorway, placing his hand on the doorknob, and then turned back to look at the person lying in bed in the dim-lit room.
Drunk, Nora was very quiet; no noise, no fuss, no antics. Once she got into bed, she wrapped herself in the blanket like a dumpling, staying motionless afterward.
Using the faint light, Pedro’s gaze lingered on her profile.
Her face was small, skin fair, features delicate, hair disheveled. Her eyelashes were long and dense, eyes closed, not carrying the laziness, sharpness, or slyness of when awake, which captivated with vivid emotions.
Yet, her serene appearance, observed more closely, weighed heavily on one’s heart. When emotions rose, they caught in the throat, dry and parched.
Suddenly, Pedro Langley remembered a night five years ago—
Endless yellow dust, sand flying in the air, under the moon and few stars in the northwest desert night, the vast dome felt cold, leaving an endless void of solitude and desolation.
She sat on the sandy ground, one long leg stretched, one bent, her fingers like scallions caressing a wine glass. Under the moonlight, her grin was unrestrained and rebellious.
Clearly a beauty like a Heavenly Immortal, with a countenance capable of ruining cities, she could play the role of a femme fatale in the mortal world, yet she exuded a knight-like aura unrestrained by the mundane, embodying an unfettered boldness traversing the world.
She resembled a female knight from the ancient Martial World, where swords clashed, and vendettas were passionately avenged.
Now, though carefree and bold, there was an added serenity and calmness.
Vaguely, her clear and smiling voice seemed to traverse through years, emerging from that quiet, empty night with clarity—
"Want a drink? Two bottles of liquor, drink till we’re not sober."
Pedro Langley chuckled softly, closing the door.
After clearing the messy coffee table, Pedro Langley heard a "ding-dong—" sound, one after another, continuously.
Following the sound, he saw the screen of Nora’s phone on the coffee table suddenly light up.
[Laura Collins]: Did I drink too much last night?
[Laura Collins]: Slept all day, just now sober a bit.
[Laura Collins]: Also, I saw the notes on the storyboard script, did you revise them for me last night? Thanks.
So, it was Laura Collins, not Henry Chapman?
A name like that should belong to a woman.
However, storyboard script?
The next day, the weather improved, the morning sun warm and pleasant.
Turning over, Nora squinted slightly, only to feel a splitting headache.
A few seconds later, in the dim view, she noticed unfamiliar bedding, pillows, nightstand, floor lamp...
Images floated intermittently, realizing something, Nora lifted the blanket, frowned and sat up, raising her hand to rub her temples.
Finding her slippers, she slipped them on and walked out.
The bedroom curtains were drawn, but opening the door, the living room was bright, full of light, making her squint.
No one was in the living room, but there was noise in the kitchen. Nora walked to the kitchen door and was somewhat surprised to see Pedro Langley busy there.
Sneaking a glance at her, Pedro asked lightly, "Do you have a headache?"
"A bit," Nora said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway, puzzled, "Why did I sleep in your bedroom?"
Lowering his eyes, Pedro opened the pot, and the boiling water inside billowed white steam, rising in waves.
He said, "Taking you home would be a hassle."
"Where did you sleep then?"
Nora raised an eyebrow, "Fair enough."
"..." Who wants to be ’fair’ with you.
Muttering inwardly, Pedro said nothing.
Nora chuckled, "Then I’ll head off."
His gaze flickered, Pedro suddenly spoke, "Tofu pudding."
As she was about to turn, Nora paused at the sound, looking puzzled, "Hmm?"
Adjusting the pot lid, Pedro looked over, saying unhurriedly, "There’s tofu pudding for breakfast. Want some?"
Momentarily stunned, Nora asked in surprise, "Are you making breakfast?"
To avoid dampening his enthusiasm, Nora thought for a moment and rephrased, "Can you make tofu pudding?"
Pedro glanced at the packaging beside him labeled ’Instant Tofu Pudding.’
Nora asked, "How long will it take?"
"About half an hour."
"..." That’s enough time for delivery to arrive.
But after a moment’s thought, Nora, still wanting to offer ’friendly encouragement,’ said, "Alright, I’ll take a shower and then come over."
As she turned around, Pedro frowned slightly and added, "The door lock code is my birthday."
Stopping after two steps, Nora hesitated for a moment before turning back.
She said nothing, just looked at Pedro Langley.
Four eyes met, neither saying a word.
The air gradually filled with an unspoken awkwardness.
Pedro Langley suddenly realized something—
She didn’t remember his birthday.