woman wearing irish linen shirt

Prevent disasters before they hurt you.Knowing and acting cautiously, a gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall.This is what Confucius said.

If a gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall, how can he take it lightly?

How can we wait...

The gentleman is really amazing.Fortunately I am not.

My fingertips got caught in her hair.It felt like stroking the silk thread, the soft texture wandered along the back of the hand, and it was hard to tell whether it was me touching the silk or the silk moving me.There was a delicate fragrance in the breath, but it quickly forgot to work, and then, the whole body went on strike.

My stiff body became soft with the loss of rhythm of breathing for a moment, as if a very thin and warm water flowed over me, caressed the lines of time, and merged into her gentle land.

I wrap her in my arms.

The surroundings are extremely quiet, and my senses have abandoned everything, only what I touch and feel has become the whole truth.Miss Pender was so close to me that my lips traced hers like an inch of velvet.She was soft, warm, and shared a tight kiss with me.Clearly point to the end, but the unfinished part is smudged, and the water mist is dense, going to the place that can only be touched by the mind.

It felt like it was sunny and I was lying in the same cloud as her.

"My God..." I restrained and separated from her a little, tidying up my messy breathing.

She sighed softly, still resting her hand on my shoulder, a little absent-minded.After a while, Miss Pande's eyes showed a hint of teasing, she looked at me and said, "I thought you were an atheist."

"My mind hasn't changed." After I finished speaking, I licked my lips, lowered my eyelashes, and leaned over again.

Oh My God.

There was still her sweet taste on my lips, and I was a little unsatisfied, so I moved my throat patiently, and let go of the arms that imprisoned her.Miss Pande relaxed, leaning her head on my neck, with one arm around her waist, as if she was afraid that I would run away.Her skin felt a little itchy when she sniffed, but she couldn't calm down after all, and her breathing was still light or heavy.

I opened my mouth, and after a long time, I said, "We shouldn't continue."

She raised her head to look at me, bit her lip, said nothing, and nestled back again.

"Are you hungry?" I raised the arm around her shoulder, "It's only past three o'clock, okay. Pretend I didn't say that."

"You can start making preparations first. I'm going to make a more complicated soup today." She moved slightly, "Another 5 minutes?"

"Okay." I kissed her hair.

Miss Pender raised her head slightly.

...It finally started at four o'clock.

There are two kitchens in her home, both of which are open.The small one can only be regarded as a bar counter, with all kinds of spices in glass bottles, a pan hanging above the electric stove, and a refrigerator just embedded in the corner.The big one is in a deeper position, and the kitchen utensils are all available, and it is very clean, but it is clear that she often cooks.

"The kitchen in front is where I usually eat." She turned her back and asked me to tie an apron on her. "But today we will eat something good, you can look forward to it."

"Do you need me to do anything?"

Miss Pan De turned around, crossed her arms, and blinked: "Tell me first, what cooking experience do you have?"

"Ugh." I was stumped by her, "I can handle most vegetables and shred them."

"That means you can't cook."

I pursed my lips, really unable to refute.

She took out tomatoes, cucumbers and several kinds of peppers from the fresh-keeping layer of the refrigerator, as well as half an onion wrapped in plastic wrap, and took a cutting board and a ceramic knife from the cabinet above the sink Passed it to me: "Can you cut them into strips about five millimeters thinner? The cucumber slices could be flattened a bit more...about two millimeters?"

A typical foreigner cooks, paying attention to the accuracy of the portion, and can't wait to compare the measuring cup with the kitchen scale.

Then Miss Pan De really took a kitchen scale, weighed a bowl of olives in a glass jar that weighed about two taels, and handed it to me, saying, "Just cut this in half."

I glanced at the writing on the can and it was Kalamata olives.I asked, "Is the first course Greek salad?"

Miss Pender raised her eyebrows: "You know that very well. Can I eat goat cheese?"

"can."

"Okay." As she spoke, she poured another half bowl of milk, took out a small piece of feta cheese and soaked it in it, "cut this last, can you cut it into dices of about five millimeters?"

"Of course." I'm in a great mood today, and the movements of my hands are exceptionally quick.

Miss Pender was preparing her soup, which seemed to be some kind of vegetable soup, but from the beginning she was reluctant to use hands.Her progress is much faster than mine. I have just finished chopping vegetables when the soup is on the stove and the kitchen alarm clock is set.

She checks my results as she mixes the olive oil for dressing: "Not bad. Do you want to eat here or shall we go to the bar? I don't have a restaurant in my house."

"Eat here." I did not forget to compliment her, "You are so organized."

She didn't even pause in the whole process of making the soup. If it was me, I would have forgotten where the pot was, and would have taken out all the seasonings for later use.Miss Pan De used the same to take the same, and she was familiar with the recipes and tools, so she didn't waste a bit of time.

"I like to cook, and I like to be tidy." She shrugged. "I hope the taste is ok... shall we begin?"

"Okay." I washed my hands and took off the apron for her.

I couldn't hold back a kiss, and I couldn't tell who took the initiative.

We sat side by side, facing the counter, like two people who just finished cooking.Of course, she is more like a chef, and I may be a trainee Dunzi who is about to be fired or something.

"Your watch is beautiful. Is it an antique?" asked Miss Pender.

I nodded: "My grandmother left it to me."

"Oh." She looked a little sorry, "When did it happen?"

"It has been several years. She was 92 years old when she passed away, and it is said that she passed away peacefully." I lowered my eyes, "It took me two or three days to get the news."

"I'm sorry." She held out her hand.

I shook her back and smiled nonchalantly: "Thank you."

Miss Pender's tone was a little hesitant: "You seem to seldom mention family."

"Remember when I said I came from a very independent family?" I looked at her and said, "So there aren't many stories to share. My grandma was a lovely lady and kept her With a lot of energy, she loves to make snacks. I am her youngest granddaughter and was almost sugar fed."

She smiled brightly: "Is that why you are so sweet?"

I thought about it seriously: "It's very possible. I'm more like grandma."

"Then I want to get to know your grandma." Miss Pan De looked at me, "Is that okay? I'll ask some questions that can be answered with numbers. Correspondingly, you can also ask me."

"Of course." I ate a spoonful of salad.

"How many girlfriends have you had?"

I almost choked.

After coughing, I asked, "Don't you want to know my grandma?"

"But you said you resembled her very much." She blinked.

I looked at her helplessly and smiled without answering.

"Okay..." She tapped her finger twice on her face, "How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Zero."

Miss Pande raised her eyebrows, as if she wanted to go back to the original question.But she might not be sure to let me answer, and finally turned to ask: "Since you said it was for scientific research... I want to know how many girls' phone numbers you successfully obtained at that time? I mean the day we first met .”

I said, "So you also have moments when your curiosity is active."

She persisted: "You can only answer numbers."

"About half, a hundred?" I can't remember clearly, "But I remember that in those two days, I asked a total of 210 seven strange ladies, and you were not included."

"Why don't you count me?"

I looked at her deliberately, with a half-smile: "You only ask me to answer numbers."

Miss Pender narrowed her eyes, which made me feel a little dangerous.She then asked, "Did that paper draw any conclusions?"

There are too many factors to consider in this experiment, so there are no really meaningful conclusions.But she might get annoyed if I don't answer.I said, "Well—about half of Pioneer Valley college students like girls?"

She frowned slightly: "What about those who refused?"

"They usually say that they are straight girls, or have a boyfriend." I touched my neck, the time is really too long, I can't recall the details.

"Is this your understanding?" She looked at me with a slight smile, "Half of the people like girls?"

"Is that so?" I nodded in confusion.

"Now you have answered several answers that are not numbers." Miss Pender leaned over, "Punishment question: Why am I not counted?"

The soup was a bit mushy, but still tasty.

Miss Pande said it was a secret recipe from her mother's family, but I have eaten Central European cuisine once or twice, and I don't feel that it is much different from the fried pumpkin soup in the store.The portion of the salad was too big, we were already 6% full after drinking the soup, and the M[-] ​​filet she defrosted in the refrigerator failed to show its full potential.

The ice on the steak had melted away, and Miss Pender was not very happy.I swore again and again that I would finish eating them before twelve o'clock tonight, and her face finally eased a little.

We talked a lot, from the first girl who made my heart flutter, to the most challenging deliverable I encountered while working at Agency A, her curiosity seemed to have no end in sight.I was also more relaxed than ever. I felt like I could ask and answer her a thousand questions at the same time, and there was still more to say, like opening some treasure.

I neither wear armor nor sword, hold her in my arms, and whisper to each other, as if I possessed the whole world for a short time.Miss Pande interacted and got close to me like a glass of red wine, and we were like two confidantes walking in night.

"You have stars dancing in your eyes," I said.

Her forehead was pressed against me, and she listened to her words, her eyes were crooked, and what was flowing at this moment was the Milky Way.

I didn't go home that night.