Her Eyes Say She Likes You - Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Drawing Closer in Light and Shadow
A busy day of manuscript deadlines finally came to an end.
Dong Yan sent out the finalized drafts, closed her digital screen, and massaged the back of her neck, which was feeling a little sore. Outside the window, the night had grown deep.
Almost simultaneously, her phone screen lit up.
[Wei Jia]: Teacher!!! Received the manuscript!!! Scandalously perfect!!! (Kitten excited split.jpg)
[Wei Jia]: You worked so hard!!! How about we go out and relax?
[Wei Jia]: There’s an animated film that just came out. I heard the visuals are so beautiful it’s like a flowing oil painting exhibition! Should we go see it? (Puppy furiously wagging tail.gif)
A movie?
Dong Yan looked at the puppy emoji that was almost leaping off the screen, feeling as if she could see Wei Jia holding her phone next door, nervous and expectant.
She recalled Wei Jia saying, “You don’t need an excuse to come over,” and the Band-Aid with the little cloud.
Her fingertip paused on the screen for a moment.
[Eyes]: Okay.
[Wei Jia]: !!!
[Wei Jia]: I’ll book the tickets right now! What time do you want to see it, Teacher?!
Half an hour later, the two appeared at the cinema downstairs.
Wei Jia was holding an oversized bucket of popcorn, her steps so light she seemed about to float. Today, she wore a black hoodie printed with abstract graffiti, and her grey-pink short hair looked particularly striking under the cinema lights.
It wasn’t until they had scanned their tickets and sat down that Dong Yan realized—Wei Jia had booked a couple’s seat.
A soft, leather sofa with no dividing armrest in the middle, the space was noticeably wider and… more private than standard seating.
Wei Jia seemed a little nervous too. She placed the popcorn bucket between them and explained quietly, “Uh… all the good standard seats were gone, this one just has the best view…”
“Mmm.” Dong Yan responded, settling into the soft sofa without saying anything further.
The lights dimmed, and the movie began. Just as Wei Jia had said, the visuals were extremely beautiful, every frame a work of art.
Wei Jia was initially sitting upright, trying hard to focus on the movie. But gradually, her attention wandered uncontrollably.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dong Yan’s quiet profile, which looked exceptionally soft in the changing light and shadow of the screen. The faint, familiar scent on her, mixed with the sweetness of the popcorn, subtly wafted around her nose.
Wei Jia’s heart began to race again, against her will.
She pretended to reach for the popcorn, her fingers cautiously, little by little, inching toward Dong Yan’s side.
The first time, she touched the edge of the popcorn bucket.
The second time, her fingertip brushed the back of Dong Yan’s hand, which was resting casually on the sofa.
A slightly cool, soft touch.
A faint electric current suddenly shot through her body.
Wei Jia quickly pulled her hand back, her heart pounding. She stole a glance at Dong Yan. The other seemed completely absorbed in the movie’s plot, her gaze fixed on the screen, showing no reaction.
Wei Jia felt a sigh of relief, yet also a strange sense of disappointment.
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage again. This time, her goal was clear—she gently, with a barely perceptible tremor, covered Dong Yan’s hand resting on the sofa with her own.
The moment her hand covered it, both of them paused almost imperceptibly.
Dong Yan’s hand moved slightly, but she didn’t pull it away.
Wei Jia’s heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest. She dared not move, nor look at Dong Yan. All her senses seemed concentrated on that small patch of skin where their palms touched.
The teacher’s hand is so soft, and cool. She carefully used her own warm palm to completely envelop that coolness.
Wei Jia was utterly oblivious to what was happening in the movie. In her world, there was only the temperature transmitted through her palm, the roaring heartbeat in her ears, and the lingering scent of Dong Yan near her nose.
It wasn’t until the movie ended and the lights came on.
Wei Jia quickly withdrew her hand as if she had been burned, her ears crimson. She grabbed the empty cola cup beside her, pretending to be busy sipping a non-existent drink.
“Let’s go.” Dong Yan’s voice sounded, still calm and gentle, as if the person whose hand had been tightly held in the dark for over an hour wasn’t her.
“Oh… okay, okay!” Wei Jia scrambled to her feet, following closely behind her.
Stepping out of the cinema, the evening breeze cooled the heat on Wei Jia’s face slightly. She sneaked a glance at Dong Yan; her expression was normal, only… the hand that had been held seemed to be subtly, unnaturally slightly curled inward.
Wei Jia’s heart felt tickled by a feather, itchy and sweet.
She quickly walked a couple of steps to walk side-by-side with Dong Yan, gathered her courage, and gently bumped Dong Yan’s shoulder with hers.
“Teacher,” her voice carried an uncontrollable laugh, her bright eyes fixed on the night ahead. “Next time… shall we go see another ‘flowing oil painting exhibition’?”
Dong Yan didn’t answer immediately.
A few seconds later, as they reached the downstairs area, in the quiet space where the elevator doors were slowly closing, she responded almost inaudibly:
“…Mmm.”
Wei Jia looked at Dong Yan, who was standing beside her with her head slightly lowered in the elevator mirror, and felt her whole being was about to turn into a melting, overly sweet strawberry candy.