The next day, Hannah said she was going out to meet a friend.
Once classes started, she said, she would not have much time to relax.
Hannah was still young enough to enjoy herself, and Evan did not think too much about it.
Before leaving, she told him to vacuum the apartment and mop the floors while he was at it.
To make it easier for him, Hannah even left her bedroom door open.
When Evan mopped her room, he noticed something pressed beneath her pillow.
A black corner was showing.
Digging through someone else's things was rude.
Evan knew that.
But curiosity had already grabbed him by the throat, so he lifted the pillow and took one quick look.
Under the pillow lay a one-piece piece of lingerie.
Black.
Mesh.
So thin it barely seemed qualified to be called clothing.
Evan picked it up and stared.
"Damn."
It was the first time in his life he had seen anything like this.
The chest had daring cutouts.
The lower half was even more outrageous, all straps and empty space, designed less to cover than to make a man's imagination commit crimes.
Evan's throat moved.
He could not help picturing it on Hannah.
That cold face.
That soft waist.
That calm, mature way she moved around the apartment.
Then this thing.
Evan suddenly felt a strange sympathy for Rowan.
It was like placing a full table of hot food in front of a starving man after pulling out all his teeth.
What kind of suffering was that?
After looking for only a few seconds, Evan hurriedly put it back under the pillow and arranged everything exactly as it had been.
If Hannah found out he had touched it, he might as well dig a hole in the floor and bury himself alive.
...
That afternoon, Hannah returned.
She had gone shopping.
A few bags were scattered across the sofa like trophies from a small war.
Evan glanced at them casually.
Then his eyes stopped moving.
Stockings.
And a set of lace lingerie so seductive that even the packaging looked guilty.
Evan silently sighed.
Some people died of thirst.
Some people drowned in water.
Rowan had married a woman this beautiful and this dangerous, and yet he could only look.
What a waste of heaven's resources.
When it was almost time for dinner, Evan went into the kitchen on his own.
He was familiar with cooking.
Before long, he had made several solid dishes.
When he brought them to the table, Hannah's eyes lit up.
"Evan, not bad. You can actually cook real food?"
She pointed at one dish.
"What's this?"
"Braised fish."
He pointed at another plate.
"And that one's slow-braised pork knuckle. My foster dad taught me."
"Nice. Very nice."
Hannah's appetite clearly woke up.
She looked at the dishes, then at Evan.
"With food this heavy, shouldn't we drink a little?"
Evan scratched his head.
"Hannah, I just turned twenty-one. Drinking with you feels a little..."
"Don't talk nonsense. Drink."
She stood and went to the wine cabinet.
"A little won't kill you."
Hannah took out a bottle of red wine and poured Evan a small amount.
She poured herself half a glass.
It was Evan's first time drinking wine from a stemmed glass.
The moment his fingers touched it, he felt as if someone had put him in a suit and tied a bow tie around his neck.
Seeing his stiff posture, Hannah covered her mouth and laughed.
"You don't hold it like that. Swirl it gently."
"Swirl?"
"Yes. Let it breathe."
"All right. I'll try."
The two ate and drank.
At first, Hannah still looked like the usual Hannah.
Calm.
Sharp.
Beautiful in a way that made people behave carefully around her.
But as the meal went on, most of the bottle somehow entered her stomach.
Her face flushed.
The coolness in her eyes softened into a hazy warmth.
Even the pale skin of her exposed legs took on a faint pink, delicate enough to make Evan's thoughts run in directions they had no business going.
Older people liked to say that people who blushed easily when drinking had good hearts.
Evan did not know if that was true.
But Hannah had turned red from her cheeks down to her body.
So by that folk logic, she had to be a very kind woman.
Hannah rested one pale elbow on the dining table and propped her cheek in her hand.
Her eyes were blurred with wine.
She crooked a finger at Evan.
"Come here."
Her voice was softer than usual.
"Sit beside me."
She patted the chair next to her.
"Let me lean on you for a while."
Then she gave a tired little smile.
"I'm exhausted."