NovelEnglishSeconds ticked by before he finally looked up with a nonchalant lift of his head. "Sure."
"Felix, you won't get docked pay for drinking with a client, will you?"
"No, I'm off the clock now."
Carol nodded, propping her chin on her hand with a sigh. "I just saw you getting doused with a drink. Suddenly realized we're birds
of a feather. What about your family?"
"They're gone."
He spoke slowly, idly spinning the glass before him, not in a hurry to drink.
Carol froze. "All gone?"
"Yeah."
The atmosphere becleaden in an instant. She suddenly didn’t know what to say. What started as a jest now carried a tinge of
seriousness.
"I didn't mean to pry. Drink up?" she offered, pouring him a full glass.
Felix still didn't move.
Carol had this strange feeling that he could see right through her intentions for the evening.
But then, glancing back at him, his eyes seemed to return to a state of calm simplicity.
They clinked glasses and began to drink at a leisurely pace.
Carol prided herself on her drinking abilities and was sure she could outdrink him.
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But as the night wore on, it was her world that began to spin first.
She steadied herself on a nearby table, clinging to the last shred of sobriety.
"It's late. Tto head home."
Felix, also reeking of alcohol, helped her up. "Where do you live?"
Carol remembered her mission for the night. She was supposed to end up in Felix's bed, otherwise, all this drinking would have
been for naught.
She kept silent, feigning a drunken slur.
Felix guided her to the curb, asking again, "Which bus do you need? Which direction is home?"
Carol said nothing. Felix's gaze flickered briefly before heading towards a nearby hotel entrance.
Carol noticed his steps were unsteady. He must be drunk too.
Wasn't he going to take her home?
Then she saw the hotel and her heart settled. So he intended to bring her here.
She had dressed up especially for tonight, and now, both slightly intoxicated in the suggestive setting of a hotel, she didn't believe
he could resist.
Turns out, Felix really could resist.
The hotel room was nice, and Felix had spared no expense. After escorting her to the room and depositing her on the bed, he made
to leave.
Carol caught his wrist, pulling him back.
Was this man really so virtuous? She wasn't unattractive, so why wasn't he taking the bait?
The bed was soft, and they both sank into it as she sat atop him, her hand reaching for his collar.
She'd wanted to undo his bow tie the last tshe saw him at the BlueSky Bar. This time, though, there was no tie, just a neatly
buttoned-up shirt that still looked appealing.
She had just undone the top button when her hand was held firmly.
Confused, she looked at Felix and thought she saw a glint of disgust in his eyes.
But when she looked closer, he had regained his composure.
"Get srest, you're drunk," he said coolly.
Carol wasn't about to let it go. She kissed him, moving her lips closer.
As she approached, his face paled. He seemed instinctively ready to push her away, but then he froze, as if recalling something.
Her lips brushed his, and for a moment, they were close as they had been once before, but without any real taste.
When Carol's tongue was about to touch his lips, with a forceful shove, he pushed her away, his face darkening, disgust almost
spilling from his eyes.
Carol thought she was hallucinating from the alcohol.
She was attractive, and many pursued her. When she chased, she never failed to catch.
Now, offering a kiss, she was rejected?
Her pride hurt, yet there was a streak of admiration. This was the man she fancied—remarkably disciplined.
Rejected, she couldn't muster the courage to go further, only holding onto his wrist.
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"I'm scared to sleep alone. Stay with me, will you?" she pleaded.
Felix sat unmoved beside her, his expression unreadable.
Carol lay back, her own face hidden from view.
Suddenly feeling ashamed, she reconsidered her approach. Pride had always been her shield, and consecutive rejections were
starting to eat at her confidence.
As she grappled with self-doubt, she heard him speak.
"Alright, you sleep."
Truly tired and slightly drunk, Carol didn't take long to fall asleep.
Felix waited until he was sure she was sound asleep before he slipped into the bathroom.
He turned on the tap, scrubbing the skin she had touched, his face a mask of tension and displeasure.
In the mirror, his lips still bore the trace of her kiss, and his expression turned even colder.
The next morning, Carol woke with reluctance, fearing the awkwardness that might fill the room.
Debating whether to feign a blackout, she heard the door open. She quickly shut her eyes.
She felt someone approach the bedside, placing something on the nightstand—surely Felix.
She dared not open her eyes, not wanting to face the aftermath of her rejected kiss.
Only when the door closed did she dare to look.
On the nightstand, there was a warm plate of pancakes and a glass of milk.
She sat up, her head ached from the hangover, but her heart felt oddly tender.
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