Woman In Irish Linen Shirt

Small street lamps light up large lawns under careful care. Miss Pan De briskly walked out of the front door and greeted me, more touching than any dream.

The light and shadow in the night covered her with a soft mist, and Miss Pan De seemed to have just walked into life through the film filter. Suddenly, my mind froze, and she had touched my face.

"The complexion is good." Miss Pan De's eyes were full of light, "like a cheek kissed by good luck."

I took off the bag and carried it in my hand: "That's my base makeup. And the blush — I put it on the lip glaze today. So I probably kissed myself in the end."

"Why don't you look at me?"

She was now wearing a loosely woven cheese yellow sweater, with a slightly wider neckline, and her shoulders exposed, making her figure more and more slender. Among the warm fabrics, looming are the superb curves that can only be seen on the seashore.

Miss Pan De wore a white bikini.

How dare I say that I noticed it at first sight.

I shook my head slightly: "Just watching the road. You just said, in the middle of dinner cooking?"

"Yes. Peter is the chef. He is still preparing meat sauce. In the evening our staple food is pasta." She glanced at me. "There is no sauce, eh, but I mixed a little lime and apple cider vinegar. "

I paused: "With pasta?"

"Yes." She laughed. "You can still eat Peter's meat sauce. He has prepared a lot."

I sighed softly, dumbfounding. Stretching out a hand to embrace Miss Pande's shoulder, I whispered: "It's not easy for dancers."

"Wait a while."

"Um?"

She put her arms around my neck and kissed each side of her cheek, her tone was very satisfied: "It's all right now."

I reacted for a moment: "So you are good luck itself?"

"I just think this look is more suitable for you." Miss Pande raised her eyebrows, "Just now you looked like you had just walked through a storm."

"There was a heavy rain today." I said to a riddle that she didn't understand. "And earlier, I did wear it through the heavy rain."

She touched my head instead: "Sounds very hard."

Moreover, Miss Pande opened the door before I criticized her.

This villa is small in size, but it is divided into a large front and rear courtyard, and even an atrium, which has a wonderful Zen. At first glance, the building was designed and rebuilt by a dedicated person, and it is very close to the soft decoration style of Miss Pande's apartment.

She was very familiar with the road, and took me to a room on the second floor to put my bag. Miss Pande’s bag was lying in the closet with the door open, and another piece of her coat hung. There is really no trace of life here. The whole looks like a luxury suite in a Southeast Asia resort hotel, but I still feel that something is wrong.

On the way to the kitchen, I said, "Are you sure this is your friend's house?"

Miss Pan De looked at me, her eyes guilty and playful.

I knew it in my heart, and her friend was close in front of me, so I stopped asking.

Today they are still those old acquaintances, Peter, Weng Kexin, a pair of partners in the dance classroom, and "Asia's Strongest". They greeted me very casually. The strongest in Asia seemed not good at cooking, and invited me to play games together. I exchanged greetings with them, as if I belonged to this group.

Today, Miss Pan De was so coquettish, she put on her apron, raised her head, and didn't speak much. I lowered my head and laughed. I used to tie a band for her and tie a beautiful knot.

Ke Xin looked strangely there, looking up and down there with fanfare. I asked myself if I hadn't done too intimate actions, I said: "Why, are you too adult?"

When I was in college, it might be strange to see friends wearing aprons to each other. At that time, there was an FTM (FemaleToMale) from Sloan School of Business who was in love with the senior sister in the same dormitory. Vivienne and Lao Bai often came to our door. We seldom spoke to him actively and occasionally made him feel out of place. . He later talked to us in depth through his senior sister, thinking that we had some misunderstanding about transgender people: but not at all.

For those of us who are less than twenty years old, Chengri, in a suit and shoes, is almost like a person living on the back of the moon.

Lao Bai's yin and yang line at the top of the list was: "You even have a job? Uh!" He said it with the snobbish expression that white girls must have when talking about gossip.

The not-so-adult Weng Kexin pulled back my thoughts: "No, you are fine, you are just right, Yao."

I frowned slightly: "Um...thank you?"

With that said, I walked over to stand with her. Weng Kexin took a large package of about five or six chicken **** from the sink and handed it to me, while saying, "Sanny is over."

The hot lady who was named immediately raised her head: "She doesn't know how to cook, it's better to stay for a while and I will deal with it."

I'm also not sure if it is "too hot". Maybe it's the "too keen" lady?

"I can cut things." I whispered, "I cut it repeatedly until it becomes puree, and then hand it over to you to make chicken balls, right? But I see a crusher there."

"no no--"

"No, no," said Peter and Miss Pande almost at the same time, "that kind of meat would be very mechanical and lose its vitality."

I was dumbfounded: "Then use a kitchen knife?"

Miss Pande came over with a smile and took my hand: "Why don't you play games?"

"I'm chatting with Kexin." I obediently returned the meat to her, lying in the corner of Liulitai, "Let me stay here for a while, I promise not to make trouble, okay? I promise."

She took a breath quietly: "Well, if you insist."

After that, I turned and went back to cook with them, leaving me with a cool back.

I went to sit down in a high chair. Weng Kexin may have said in a low voice, "Are they PDAs?"

I said "maybe" in a low voice, because the three people in the kitchen should be able to hear her.

"What is a PDA?" Peter asked.

"The abbreviation of'Public Intimacy'." Weng Kexin shook her head. She peeled her skin so fast. I didn't understand how she spoke and ensured her speed. "Now I want to take back the preface. So are you, Yao."

I didn't dare to shake my legs anymore, with an unbelievable expression: "I didn't do anything."

Weng Kexin's tone was very strange: "Yes."

Miss Pan De said: "You can't help but pick her up?"

Before I had time to say anything, Weng Kexin interrupted again: "I'm serious."

I wanted to ask the details, but didn't dare to open my mouth, biting my lower lip in embarrassment.

Peter said to help: "She said that Sonia was full of romance today, she was looking at her phone at any time, and she showed that stupid smile."

Miss Pan De turned her head, smiled smoothly, and raised an eyebrow slightly.

Peter and I lowered our heads in tandem.

Weng Kexin might have caught a glimpse of me smiling, and even after listening to Peter’s explanation, I smiled more clearly, so he exclaimed: "Bird of love."

It seems that being young is indeed good. On this occasion, everyone shuts up, and she dared to fan the flames.

However, before switching to flight mode at noon today, I greeted Miss Pande specially. Knowing that there will be no news from my side, what is she doing frequently checking her phone while gathering with friends?

Because of the daytime, I couldn't help thinking more.

I really have too many questions to ask her.

The food at night, to be honest, was very bland. Watching people cooking is often the easiest time to arouse appetite, but even so, I don't feel much in my heart. There was a bottle of sugar-free black pepper sauce in the refrigerator. It didn't have anything like Miss Pande said before; but when I took it out, they all looked at the bottle like a plague.

With respect to the wisdom of the people, I put it back again.

The strongest in Asia their game duel is not over yet, we decided to eat 20 minutes late. When helping to set the plate, I joked: "Should I not come?"

"Huh?" Miss Pande raised her head.

"I just counted it, count me, there is just one more visitor." I deliberately probed my head left and right like a thief, "Your neighbor won't complain to us, right?"

She smiled and shook her head, and said, "You are not a visitor."

I realized what she meant, and my voice answered vaguely, my ears getting hot.

At this time, a faint sigh came from behind.

Weng Kexin hugged her arms: "A PDA should be counted as an act of mental violence against others, do you know?"

Peter simply pretended not to hear it, turned back to the kitchen and took out an arm-long oversized pepper grinder.

I looked at the troublemakers who made the "KGB" have to pretend to be deaf and dumb.

Miss Pan De really spoils her.

If I was one year younger than her, instead of one year older, would she let me do the same?

During dinner, I kept thinking about what I didn’t have. After the meal, they had to play the game of fortune and guessing together again. Every time my thoughts drifted towards official business, something happened to drag me back again, back to the living, Beside Miss Pan De who was laughing with her friends.

I seem to be split in form and spirit.

But is this really a kind of maneuver?

The last time I played a game with someone around the carpet in the living room, some people sat cross-legged, and some people squeezed on the sofa. As long as everyone was company, they felt relaxed and happy. It was still ten years ago.

How can I doubt her?

How can I feel that, even at a certain moment, she had been malicious to me?

When I returned to the room, I walked a little bit ahead, advising myself not to think arrogantly, but on the opposite side of repression, the chaotic thinking in my heart was almost exponentially increasing.

There is clearly only one me in the world, but there are many more hands out of thin air, a pair of two, rushing to my neck, to make me obey orders, to make me a slave to doubt; or I was suspicious. And retained such a slave status.

Am I suspicious of her?

As repeated a hundred and ten times, Miss Pande gently touched my face with the back of her hand. I held her skin and kissed it lightly, my eyes facing each other, but her eyes were filled with worries that I had never had before.

What makes her so sad?

Is it me?

Is it herself?