Mu Siyi curled in the sofa, gaze stuck on Mu Yan’s back unable to move away.
The maid outfit apron ties were knotted into a small bow at the back of the waist, the skirt hem just covering the knees, the exposed calves white enough to dazzle.
She lowered her head twisting her fingertips; just now she had pinched Mu Yan’s face, that ice-cold soft fluffy touch still lingering on her finger pads, like touching a milk jelly just taken from the fridge.
Mu Yan squatted by the windowsill fiddling with the succulents, not paying her any attention for a long time.
Mu Siyi tiptoed sneakily crowding over, fingertips hooking her crooked lace headband, casually adjusting it straight.
The instant the finger pad brushed the earlobe, cool and silky, like touching a piece of ice.
Mu Yan turned her head looking at her.
“…What.”
“Headband was crooked.”
Mu Siyi smiled stepping back half a step, a bit of successful mischief hidden in her eyes.
Not quiet two minutes, she stood up again.
This time directly circling behind Mu Yan, opening her arms wrapping that slender waist in one hold.
The waistline cinched by the apron ties just slotted into her arm crook, chin resting on the person’s head top, heavy.
Mu Yan’s body suddenly stiffened, like a pause button was pressed.
“…Let go.”
“No. Hugging once won’t lose a piece of flesh.”
Mu Siyi tightened her arms, through two layers of fabric she could still feel the softness underneath; her thumb unconsciously brushed the waist side once, after brushing she herself paused first.
When she stepped back half a step, Mu Yan finally turned around.
The face still had almost no expression, yet two patches of light red floated on both cheeks, like rouge blooming on white porcelain.
“Jiejie,” Mu Siyi tilted her head smiling, “your waist is way too thin right? This maid outfit also has a cinching effect?”
“…Don’t know.”
“Then wearing other clothes usually also this thin?” As she spoke she reached out wanting to touch again, Mu Yan sidestepped dodging, not letting her touch.
Dinner was eaten quietly.
Mu Siyi picked a piece of beef putting it into Mu Yan’s bowl, watching her chew in small bites, cheeks slightly puffing, like a hamster hoarding food.
Lips stained with a bit of oil sheen, moist, faintly pink.
She stared looking for a few seconds, suddenly as if scalded, abruptly turning her head looking out the window.
After eating the two curled on the sofa watching TV.
Mu Siyi next to Mu Yan’s arm, through the fabric she could still feel that cool silky force, sticking close in summer especially comfortable.
“Jiejie, your hands are so small.”
She without saying another word pulled over Mu Yan’s left hand, spreading it in her own palm.
The fingers shorter than hers by a whole finger joint, skin slippery smooth, palm lines so shallow they were almost invisible.
She used her thumb lightly tracing once.
Mu Yan’s hand suddenly shrank back.
“Ticklish.”
Mu Siyi’s heart thumped, yet the corners of her mouth curled even higher.
Fingertips slowly traced from the palm to the wrist, light as a feather sweeping.
Mu Yan shrank again.
“…Don’t mess.”
“Messing once what’s the matter.”
As she spoke she suddenly reached out, poking Mu Yan’s waist side once.
Mu Yan’s whole person bounced up, turning wanting to flee, but Mu Siyi’s movement was faster than hers, reaching out pressing the person back into the sofa.
“Say please, I’ll stop.” She straddled Mu Yan’s legs, ten fingers rapidly tickling her waist.
The maid outfit skirt hem was rubbed flipped to the thigh roots, the collar bow crooked to one side, the headband long since fallen who knows where.
On that face that always had no expression, blush spread from the cheeks all the way to the ear roots, even the lips slightly parted, breathing both urgent and light.
She reached out pushing Mu Siyi’s shoulders, that bit of strength soft and fluffy, landing on the person no different from a massage.
“…Don’t.”
“Don’t then continue.”
Mu Siyi’s fingers climbed up one rib at a time, climbing and climbing, the movements suddenly slowing.
She lowered her head looking at the person beneath her.
Hair messy and fluffy scattered on the sofa, eyes opened a circle larger than usual, misty, looking up at her.
The heart suddenly lost its beat, thump thump thump jumping fiercely, even the palms breaking a thin sweat.
What’s going on…
Her mind was a mess.
Noses almost touching noses, Mu Yan’s ice-cold breath sweeping her lips, ticklish.
Gaze involuntarily sliding down, landing on those light pink lips.
Thin, looking soft and fluffy.
Want to kiss.
The instant this thought popped out, Mu Siyi’s whole body shook.
I went crazy?! That’s my ge!
“Jiejie,” her voice a bit hoarse, she herself didn’t notice, “do you know you look especially good right now.”
“…Move.”
“Not moving.”
The words falling, she lowered her head, lips lightly touching Mu Yan’s forehead.
Like touching a chilled pudding.
Mu Yan’s whole person completely froze.
Fingers clutching the sofa cushion dead tight, knuckles even turning white.
The blush spread all the way to the neck, ear tips red enough to drip blood.
“…Have you kissed enough.” The voice still flat, yet the hand clutching the sofa cushion trembling slightly.
“Not enough.”
Mu Siyi’s voice also light, fingertips sliding from the shoulder to the collarbone, hooking the collar bow lightly pulling.
The knot loosened, the collar opening a small patch, revealing a bit of fair skin under the collarbone.
“Siyi.”
Mu Yan suddenly raised her hand, gripping the wrist that was pulling the bow.
The force very light, yet very steady.
“…You’ve gone too far.”
Mu Siyi suddenly came back to herself.
She crashed into Mu Yan’s eyes.
Those eyes still had almost no ripples, clear and cold, yet the face flushed fiercely, ear tips even burning.
“I am your jiejie.” Mu Yan’s voice very light, yet like a stone smashing on her heart. “Not your toy.”
Mu Siyi froze for two seconds, hurriedly flipping down from her, sitting at the farthest edge of the sofa.
She grabbed the cola can that had gone warm on the coffee table, smacking it against her cheek.
The ice-cold aluminum can against the face, yet couldn’t suppress that heat burning to the ear roots.
“…I’m going to shower.”
She almost fled in panic, without looking back charging into the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind her.
Back against the ice-cold door panel sliding sitting to the ground, she buried her face into her knees.
What exactly was I doing just now…
The heart still jumping wildly.
That’s my ge… I actually… I definitely fried my brain.
Inside the bathroom was quiet, only her own messy breathing sounds; through one door, the TV sound outside drifted in fuzzy, making the heart even more panicked.