Adaparin (5)

After washing up, Ang leaned back against the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Scenes from the magic shop replayed in his mind, yet the more he thought about them, the more everything seemed almost too reasonable, without leaving behind any obvious doubts.

He sighed softly and let his thoughts gradually sink into the tide of sleepiness. Before long, his breathing became steady and deep.

Next door, Margherita had also just finished washing up.

She wore a pale silver silk nightgown, its thin, supple fabric clinging to her graceful curves. The faintly visible outline gave her a cold, dangerous sort of beauty.

She stood by the bed for a long time, as if hesitating, or perhaps calming herself.

Finally, she walked to the wall and quietly pressed her ear against it.

From the other side came Ang's even breathing, steady and deep.

She took a deep breath, crept out of her room, and gently pulled open the next door.

The gap was narrow, only wide enough for her to slip through sideways.

Her movements were exceedingly light and slow, and the door made almost no sound as it opened and closed.

Moonlight streamed through a gap in the curtains, outlining the room. Ang lay on his back in bed, his face peaceful in sleep.

Margherita stood by the bed, watching that familiar yet unfamiliar face, her expression constantly shifting.

She silently let her nightgown slide off. Her naked body gleamed with a faint silver sheen beneath the moonlight, as though some mysterious and primal ritual was about to begin.

She did not hesitate for long before lifting a corner of the thin blanket and quietly slipping beneath it.

The world beneath the blanket was warm and cramped.

She moved with particular care, like a cat entering a dream, slowly