mr frank is faithful to love

(FR. Zuo Boyao)

I hired a German chef, an authentic German chef, the kind who can speak German but can only say hello in Chinese.

When I came out of the shower, I wiped my hair and sank into the sofa. At this time, Frank was talking with the chef in his native language. I don’t know what they were talking about. This is my aunt’s house, which is very close to Golden Harbor. Their whole family lives abroad all the year round, so, living here, the house will soon become mine.

"Frank," I called out to him aloud, and then, turning over the back of the couch to see him coming, I said, "Are you going to cook?"

"If you want to taste it, I can try it."

I shook my head, the whole morning's speed and passion made me very tired, so I told him softly: "No, sit down and take a rest."

"are you tired?"

"Yeah." I nodded desperately.

Frank suggested: "Then let's get some sleep."

Fatigue lengthened my reflexes, and it took me a few seconds before I stood up and went back to the bedroom. Frank didn't follow, and of course he wouldn't.

It's just that when I took the hair dryer in the bathroom, I made a big move. The fragrance bottle placed near the mirror suddenly rolled down and broke into several pieces at my feet.

"Ah!" I exclaimed in exaggeration, holding the hair dryer at a loss, and then I heard Frank calling me.

He said, "Ethan, Ethan are you okay?"

He came in, the bathroom was lit with a warm yellow light, and the smell of the fragrance came up in bursts. I leaned against the sink, holding the hair dryer, as if I was surrendering.

Suddenly I couldn't say anything. Frank was wearing a plain black wide-cut T-shirt. He came in through the door and stood in front of me.

I stared at his face.

Living in the United States for several years, I have seen a lot of white people. I know that it is still difficult for people to get rid of the implicit admiration for their appearance. Therefore, they all hope to have deep-set eyes, raised browbones, thick eyelashes, A nose like a hillside.

But I don't have this admiration.

It's just that Frank looks better than all the Europeans and Americans I've seen.

He is so young, but he has an extraordinary calmness, a calmness that I used to hate very much.

"Let me clean it up," he said calmly, "you dry your hair first."

I covered my nightgown that was about to fall apart, curled the corners of my mouth in embarrassment, and replied: "It seems that you can't escape the fate of working when you come to my place."

He responded, brought a broom and a dustpan, and reminded me: "Be careful not to prick your feet."

After I finished blowing my hair and Frank cleaned the bathroom, I asked, "In your opinion, does the German guy know how to cook? Isn't he trying to fool me?"

I knew he might be angry, but all he showed was indifference and speechlessness. He looked at me hesitantly, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm not a professional chef."

"Are you really angry?"

"Think too much." He said three words lightly, reached out and grabbed my freshly dried hair, and then went out.

I originally planned to sleep for a while, but I really can't sleep now. The chef is cooking Frank's home flavor in the kitchen. I go to the dining table and make two glasses of lemonade. cup, and said, "Thank you."

He was unprepared, we were separated by a narrow dining table, I stared at him for two seconds, when his eyes moved from the cup to my face, I suddenly leaned forward and kissed him.

I really look like I am deliberately flirting, wearing a thin silk nightgown, pretending to be busy, and smelling the fragrance all over my body.

After the kiss, I looked at him, suppressing my nervousness, and then, with a chuckle, I looked away.

"Aren't you drunk this time?" He looked at me and stood in a different position with a blank expression on his face.

I replied: "I wasn't drunk last time, I haven't been drunk any time."

"A total of..." This topic made him a little embarrassed, he scratched the tip of his nose and said, "Just twice."

"Do you think it's too little? Frank." I took a sip of very cold lemonade, and then walked around him with a glass and looked at him again.

He frowned and said, "I don't understand what you mean, are you embarrassing me? But there is no one else here."

A hypocritical smile hung on my face, and I said, "Yes, can't you see it? I hate you."

"Then invite me here?"

Biting the skin on the inside of my lip, I thought for a long time, and I began to guess that he was actually very manipulative, just pretending to be sincere and passive.

But I can't confirm it, it's just my guess.

Later, at the table that day, I ate a fine German meal, drank a beer, and Frank sat across from me in a casual dress, and I was in my nightgown.

There was a vase of fresh flowers on the table, and the smell of pollen was a bit pungent. I asked the chef to go back in advance, and the chef didn't want to stay longer because of our appearance.

I went to Golden Port for a few days in a row, and the pigeons missed two rehearsals.

Soaking on the track all day, venting bad emotions, heartbeat, shouting, sweating, I originally planned to take down all the conversations that made me feel helpless that day, but I was thinking about it all the time.

I went to the bar with friends who were playing cars, and touched shoulders with strange girls in the booth. I accidentally drank too much, and then I started crying. I knew I was crying, but I couldn't help it.

"What's wrong? Are you sad? What's the reason?" My friend asked me.

I gritted my teeth, widened my eyes, and said, "I'm not sad, I'm crying because of anger."

"Come out to play, don't think about it for now."

I said: "Dog man..."

"You, are you talking about me?"

I shook my head, doing a miracle vigorously, and bent the fork in my hand at once. I threw the fork into a pile of wine bottles, then stood up unsteadily, and walked outside.

The memory only ends here, what happened later, I can only recall short and fragmented pictures.

When I woke up again, I was already lying in the guest room of my friend's house.

In the evening, before the dizziness from drinking was gone, I went to the warehouse to rehearse. When I saw Feizi, my first words were: "No wonder you don't like men, be sensible."

"Ah? What's wrong with you..."

"Men are dogs."

"Then you too."

"Bow woof." My mind was indeed a mess, and I didn't know how to figure it out. My feeling and attitude towards Frank did not match.

I'm just too narcissistic, too arrogant, too vocal.

I was teasing him, I admit it.

I wanted to meet Frank, but I hated his seriousness and indifference. After a while, I met him again, and I asked him to go to Zhuhai to watch the car race together.

I quickly agreed, because he was on vacation, and he also told me: "I'm going back to Germany in December, on a business trip, and I'm going home by the way."

"When will you be back?"

"January or February."

The hotel we stayed in had a view of the sea, but I was not in the mood to look at the sea. Frank’s room was next to mine. He also went with me to meet his friend, a German lady with a thin waist and long legs.

I told him: "Mia is so beautiful."

"you like her?"

I thought about it, nodded, and said, "Yes, can't you like it?"

"Yes, she is also single, you should leave a contact information, her father is in the hotel business in Australia, and your family can be regarded as half of the same family."

"I'm angry." I was really angry. Originally, I was sitting on the sofa in Frank's room, sitting next to him, but when I was talking, I suddenly stood up, and then I knelt on the sofa with the pillow in my arms. Staring at him, staring at him without moving.

"Why angry?" Frank asked.

"I don't want to say," I gritted my teeth, frowned, and said, "I want you to guess."

He actually thought about it seriously and said, "Then how do you guess..."

The sunset is red, and a little halo comes in. I have been to Zhuhai so many times, only this time, I am not looking forward to tomorrow's game at all.

What is going on is the game between me and the man in front of me.