---
The soft glow of morning filtered through the sheer curtains, casting gentle golden stripes across the room.
Lin Yue stirred slowly in bed, her temples pulsing with a dull ache.
A low groan slipped from her lips as she attempted to sit up.
Her head felt like it was filled with rocks, and her throat was as dry as sandpaper.
She blinked groggily, her eyes falling on the small bedside table.
A steaming bowl of soup sat waiting for her, the aroma faint but comforting.
Beside it was a folded note with a beautiful handwriting.
She picked it up and squinted at the words:
"Drink this. It's hangover soup. I'm off to work. Take care. – Ah Yan"
A small, tired smile curved her lips.
He was so gentle… so thoughtful.
She reached for the bowl and carefully sipped the warm liquid.
It was mildly spicy, with a soothing aftertaste.
Almost immediately, she felt a bit better, the heaviness in her head lightening ever so slightly.
As she drank, flashes of last night returned to her.
The tears. The confession. The kiss.
Lin Yue's eyes widened. "Oh no…"
She quickly put the bowl down and covered her face with both hands.
Did I really… kiss him?
Her heart began to race wildly.
What did he do afterward?
Did he pull away?
Did he say something?
But she couldn't remember clearly.
Everything after that moment was a blur.
"God... I swear... I'm never drinking again," she muttered under her breath.
Dragging herself from the bed, she headed to the small bathroom.
The tiles were cold beneath her feet, and the mirror reflected a pale girl with swollen eyes.
As the warm water cascaded over her body, her thoughts drifted back—farther than last night.
After high school…
---
That had been the first time she'd drunk.
She had just received her results.
She'd done pretty well.
The top in her class.
Excitedly, she'd gone home with the results in hand, only to be met with indifference.
"So what? Your sister did better," her mother snapped, glancing at the paper with a sneer.
"Yeah," her father muttered, not even bothering to look up from the newspaper. "Trying to outshine her again, huh? You think you're something?"
Their words crushed her spirit.
That night, as they took her brother and sister out to celebrate, leaving her alone at home, she sat on the floor and stared at the closed door.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she'd walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a cold beer.
Her father's favorite.
She hated the taste. But she hated the pain more.
---
Snapping out of the memory, Lin Yue wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out.
After dressing in a simple white dress, she looked around her small home.
The silence gnawed at her. She needed to do something—anything—to keep her thoughts at bay.
She didn't want to overthink.
She began cleaning, starting with the cluttered table and working her way to the floor.
As she wiped the worn-down sofa, something shiny wedged between the cushions caught her eye.
She tugged it out—it was a sleek, expensive-looking watch.
Her breath hitched.
This... She remembered it now.
The day she brought Ah Yan home, he'd been wearing this.
She stared at it, her fingers brushing over the glass surface.
"Maybe... just maybe this could help him remember something," she whispered, slipping it into her pocket.
After hours of scrubbing, sweeping, and doing laundry, Lin Yue finally retreated to her room.
In a corner, tucked under a dusty cloth, was her secret.
Her easel and canvas.
She hadn't painted in weeks, maybe months.
But now, her fingers itched for it.
As the brush met the canvas, she lost herself in the swirls of color.
For a moment, the world disappeared. The pain, the past, the confusion—it all bled onto the canvas.
---
At around six, Ah Yan returned.
The smell of stir-fried vegetables and pork ribs hit him the moment he opened the door.
His eyes lit up as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
The house was spotless.
He walked into the living room to find Lin Yue sitting on the sofa, a book in hand, with the TV playing softly in the background.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps and offered a small smile.
"You're back," she said, standing up.
He smiled and nodded. "It smells amazing."
"Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready," she said, disappearing into the kitchen.
They ate quietly, the only sounds being the soft clinking of cutlery against plates.
It was a peaceful meal, but Lin Yue could feel the tension sitting quietly between them—unspoken.
Last night still hovered in the air, but neither mentioned.
After dinner, she washed the dishes while he wiped the table.
Then they settled on the sofa, a comfortable silence forming between them.
She reached into her pocket and turned to him.
"Ah Yan… I found something. I think it might be yours. I had found you with it but I don't know where it was afterwards. I just found it today."
He looked at her, curious before slowly reaching out.
She placed the watch in his hand.
The moment the metal touched his skin, his body froze.
His eyes widened.
He clutched the watch tightly.
Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through his head.
He groaned, clutching his temples as his face twisted in pain.
"Ah Yan?!" Lin Yue shouted, reaching for him in alarm.
---