Chapter 23: Lips Brushing the Neck

Little Sister Run is the best at pretending to be good.

Fang Run propped her chin on her hand and thought to herself.

She fiddled with the hem of her clothes and, thinking of something, turned her head to look at Pei Luo.

Outside, the streetlights were on, and the shrubbery flashed by in a blur. Hazy shadows fell on Pei Luo’s face, flickering between light and dark.

The other woman gazed straight ahead, the light and shadow carving a sharp, defined contour along her jawline.

Woody fragrance swirled gently inside the car, filling every tiny corner.

Fang Run thought she was being very discreet, but the presence of her gaze was far too intense, sticking to Pei Luo like glue.

Pei Luo’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. She endured it and finally waited until a red light before turning her head to look at the little drunk in the passenger seat.

Fang Run’s eyes were very bright. The crease of her eyelids was light and shallow, yet the tails swept upward with a seductive charm—an alluring contradiction of purity and softness, as if she could steal a person’s soul.

She stared over without blinking, her cheeks flushed a faint red, her lips full and crimson, like a little fox spirit sneaking out at night to bewitch people.

For some reason, Pei Luo felt the temperature inside the car rise. The skin on the parts of her body that were exposed felt like an April spring breeze had brushed over it—a fine, faint itch.

She pushed up her glasses as if to mask it, avoiding the girl’s pure, clear gaze.

Fang Run blinked, murmured something under her breath, and bit her upper lip, pouting out her lower lip. She looked adorably naive.

“What?” Pei Luo leaned in and asked softly.

Fang Run quietly watched her for a few seconds, then slowly leaned closer.

A faint scent of alcohol drifted over, mingling with the perfume Fang Run was wearing, wrapping around Pei Luo. It wasn’t unpleasant.

Pei Luo’s fingertips paused as she felt a slight damp heat on her forehead.

“President Pei, thank you.” The girl’s voice was soft and sticky, lingering and tangling together like a broken thread.

Every word seemed glued to the next, the ends drawn out into rising, coquettish hooks, as if a cunning hunter were tossing out one little snare after another.

It was the first time Pei Luo had heard her address her like that, and she found it refreshingly novel. “Why not call me Sister Pei Luo anymore?”

Fang Run closed her eyes and didn’t speak again.

Like a little fox playing tricks—stirring someone’s curiosity and then running off irresponsibly.

Pei Luo was speechless for a moment, then a faint smile appeared on her face as she turned her head.

After parking the car, Pei Luo half-hugged, half-carried Fang Run into the elevator.

The elevator’s interior walls were perfectly reflective, showing the image of two people pressed close together.

They were of similar height and build, only their styles differed. Leaning together like that, they were a sight pleasing to the eye.

The lipstick on Fang Run’s lips had almost entirely rubbed off, leaving only a ring around the outline of her lips, making her look a little comical.

Pei Luo noticed this as she looked down. She took a tissue from her pocket and gently wiped it away for her.

The girl’s lips were so soft, like jelly. When her fingertip brushed past, it paused for a moment.

She couldn’t help but think back to that night, when the other party had pressed a fingertip to her own lips.

Fang Run leaned against her shoulder, eyelids closed, lashes thick and long, looking completely defenseless, full of trust and reliance.

Through the thin layer of the tissue, Pei Luo’s fingertip pressed onto Fang Run’s lip.

She gazed at that crimson hue, and an inexplicable impulse swelled within her.

Something was driving her. Her fingertip shifted off the tissue, slowly drawing closer to those warm, soft lips.

A hair’s breadth away, the elevator chimed.

Pei Luo jolted as if waking from a dream, her figure swaying.

Realizing what she had just been about to do, and looking again at the girl who was so completely unguarded around her, Pei Luo couldn’t help but feel chagrined.

She pulled back her hand, tucked the tissue she had used to wipe Fang Run’s lips into her coat pocket, and helped her out of the elevator. She then entered the passcode to get into the apartment.

Fang Run seemed heavily drunk. When they reached the entryway, she blearily opened her eyes to glance at Pei Luo, then closed them again and leaned stickily against her.

Pei Luo felt increasingly uneasy. She didn’t understand what that was, but she truly felt somewhat guilty about it.

She helped Fang Run over to the small stool for changing shoes and noticed the slight flutter of the other’s eyelids and the furrow of her brow, as if she might wake.

“I’m just changing my shoes. I’m not leaving,” Pei Luo coaxed in a low voice.

Fang Run indeed stopped fidgeting and leaned obediently against the stool, her head tilted. Under the light, her high nose and full lips stood out even more.

A drunk beauty was still a beauty.

Distractedly, Pei Luo changed into her slippers and hung up her coat. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the high heels on Fang Run’s feet and paused, stunned.

They lived together and saw each other often, yet Pei Luo had never noticed that Fang Run wore high heels.

One layer of stereotype after another was crumbling. Pei Luo’s gaze traced up from those exquisite, beautiful high heels, along the slender ankle, to the straight calves hidden by the skirt.

Finally, her eyes rested on Fang Run’s face, then involuntarily drifted again to those bewitching lips.

Something was definitely off, making her lose her composure so much tonight.

Pei Luo’s heart felt as if it were dangling in midair.

She took out the pink puppy slippers. The childish pattern was a stark contrast to the high heels, and Pei Luo sank into deep self-doubt.

If she set aside her stereotypes, perhaps Fang Run didn’t actually like the pink household items she had arranged. Was she just going along with it because she was the homeowner and an elder?

At that thought, Pei Luo’s heart felt heavy and a little uncomfortable.

After helping Fang Run change into the slippers, Pei Luo lifted an arm to help her up.

One was dead to the world, the other completely distracted.

By a twist of fate, Fang Run’s nose bumped against Pei Luo’s neck, and her warm lips brushed over Pei Luo’s skin.

Pei Luo’s body stiffened, a strange, tingling sensation shooting up her spine from below.

The smell of alcohol was quite strong. She felt as if she too were getting drunk.

Pei Luo’s eyelashes fluttered a few times before she stiffly lowered her head.

Fang Run was tucked perfectly against the crook of her neck, showing no sign of waking.

Perhaps that intimate contact just now had simply been her imagination.

Pei Luo thought uncertainly.

But in the next second, she silently thought again—even if Fang Run’s lips had brushed against her skin, so what?

Pei Luo, who had never been in a relationship, experienced deep confusion for the first time.

She could command with confidence in her professional field, but when faced with the unknown, she became hesitant and flustered.

Her heart was tangled, her thoughts swirling.

Fang Run’s breath landed on her neck, hot and ticklish.

Pei Luo’s throat felt dry, a little parched.

Finally, she made it into the guest bedroom and laid Fang Run down on the bed. Only then did Pei Luo’s hanging heart settle slightly.

She turned to leave, but a finger hooked onto hers.

Pei Luo’s steps paused. She turned her head and met a pair of drowsy eyes.

Fang Run’s gaze was hazy as she quietly watched her. The tip of her finger curled firmly, a silent insistence that she didn’t want Pei Luo to leave.

“Sister Pei Luo.” The girl’s voice was hoarse, yet still sweet and obedient.

Pei Luo’s heart softened. Even though her feelings were complicated, she didn’t coldly pull away.

She sat on the edge of the bed and patiently asked, “What is it? Do you want some water?”

Fang Run paused, as if digesting the meaning of her words.

After a moment, the girl shook her head and said in a low voice, “They wanted to say thank you to President Pei, but you weren’t there.”

So, she had to relay their thanks.

Although Fang Run’s words were fragmented, Pei Luo quickly caught on and understood what she meant.

She couldn’t help but feel a little helpless.

She touched Fang Run’s forehead. “Then tell them tomorrow that there’s no need for thanks. It was just a small favor.”

Fang Run looked at her and nodded obediently.

For a moment, the atmosphere was silent.

The two gazed at each other. Even though nothing seemed to have happened, something had changed.

Pei Luo felt the heat radiating from the fingertip that was being held. Its presence grew remarkably strong.

Fang Run closed her eyes briefly, then lifted the hand holding hers upward.

The back of Pei Luo’s hand touched her cheek, and Fang Run gently nuzzled against it, like a lazy little fox flicking its tail languidly.

“Sister Pei Luo,” Fang Run called.

Pei Luo acknowledged her, her gaze roaming the fair skin pressed against the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” Fang Run thanked her again.

This time Pei Luo didn’t understand. She lifted her eyes to look at her, but Fang Run showed no intention of explaining, so she had to give up.

“There’s no need to thank me,” Pei Luo deliberated. “You call me ‘Sister,’ so of course I have to take care of you.”

This was a mindset she had held from long ago. Fang Run had followed behind her since she was little, calling her “Sister” so obediently. Now that she had run into trouble, as a sister a few years older, she was happy to lend a hand.

Fang Run was far too well-behaved. The more time they spent together, the more Pei Luo indulged her, doting on her like a blood-related younger sister.

But after tonight, something seemed to have changed.

Facing Fang Run’s lovely face, for once in her life, Pei Luo lacked confidence.

She didn’t understand why she had become interested in the lips of another woman, let alone that this person was Little Sister Run, who had always relied on her.

Her conscience was chastised, and saying these words did nothing to ease the feeling.

Fang Run had not once looked away. At those words, she merely showed a faint smile, fleeting, carrying a hazy, fragile beauty.

The back of Pei Luo’s hand was nuzzled again. The girl’s skin was in excellent condition, like a block of soft tofu.

“Okay. Little Run likes Sister Pei Luo the best,” Fang Run said sweetly.

Pei Luo’s expression paused. She didn’t smile like she always had before.