Two Faced Lover - Chapter 2

2: Where to Sleep

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‎Meng Xuran let out a soft, expectant “Mmm” as if her request were the most natural thing in the world. When Bo Mingyan didn’t respond, she rubbed her tear-streaked face against Bo Mingyan’s sleeve.
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‎”Do you really want me to sleep on the street? Doesn’t your conscience hurt, sister?” ‎Bo Mingyan pressed a finger to Meng Xuran’s forehead and pushed her away. “No.”
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‎”…”
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‎Their eyes met—one pair cool and detached, the other glistening with pitiful tears.
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‎The orange glow of passing headlights stretched their shadows long across the pavement before the street plunged back into darkness.
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‎For a moment, Bo Mingyan was reminded of herself years ago, walking alone through the night in England. ‎If not for her roommate’s sister dialing the wrong number that day, she might have truly ended up sleeping on the streets.
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‎Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe sheer exhaustion, or some other inexplicable reason—but a ridiculous thought crossed Bo Mingyan’s mind.
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‎Three minutes later, the taxi she’d called pulled up to the curb. She bundled Meng Xuran into the back seat.
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‎Meng Xuran clung to her arm. “Aren’t you getting in?” ‎Bo Mingyan tugged her hand free. “Let go, scoot over.”
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‎Meng Xuran obediently released her, shuffling across the seat before patting the empty space beside her. “Come, sit.”
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‎Like summoning a dog.
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‎”…”
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‎After giving the driver the address, Bo Mingyan leaned in to fasten Meng Xuran’s seatbelt. ‎The ends of her hair brushed against Meng Xuran’s collarbone, tickling slightly. Meng Xuran squinted and batted the strands away.
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‎The sudden movement made Bo Mingyan glance up. ‎Their eyes met—briefly—before Bo Mingyan pulled back and buckled her own seatbelt.
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‎”How much did you drink?” she asked casually.
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‎Meng Xuran held up three fingers.
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‎Bo Mingyan raised a brow. “Three pitchers?”

‎‎”Mmm~” Meng Xuran corrected, “Three glasses.”
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‎Three glasses and she was this drunk? And she’d come to a bar alone? ‎The middle-aged driver voiced Bo Mingyan’s thoughts. “Three glasses and you’re like this? Young ladies shouldn’t go to bars alone—it’s not safe.”
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‎”I… came to meet a friend who just returned from abroad.” Meng Xuran mumbled, covering her face with her hands. “I even sang for her onstage, so embarrassing.”
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‎Bo Mingyan turned to the window, recalling the voice she’d heard earlier. “You sang well.”
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‎”Not just well.” Meng Xuran dropped her hands, suddenly serious, as if praising someone else. “I was amazing.”
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‎A long silence followed.
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‎Then, almost imperceptibly, Bo Mingyan’s shoulders shook. ‎Meng Xuran’s gaze flicked toward her, but the driver’s booming laugh stole her attention.
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‎”My daughter loves singing too—turns every shower into a concert.” He snorted. “Sounds like a saw cutting wood, but she thinks she’s a superstar.”
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‎When Meng Xuran looked back, Bo Mingyan’s profile showed no trace of laughter. Her lips curved down—disappointed, almost pouting.
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‎”I’m not just bragging.” she insisted, more to Bo Mingyan than the driver. “I’ll prove it.”
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‎Bo Mingyan arched her brow.
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‎The driver, ever the enthusiast, turned off the radio. “Go on, then!” ‎Noticing Bo Mingyan’s expression, Meng Xuran mirrored her raised brow and launched into the song she’d left unfinished at the bar.
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‎Outside the window, streetlamps blurred past in orange streaks. Unbidden, Bo Mingyan’s mind drifted back to that night in England.
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‎Working late, locked out, wandering cold streets with a borrowed phone after her bag was stolen—she’d had no one to call.
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‎She couldn’t remember how she’d felt then. ‎Only the girl’s voice on the phone, clear as spring water, soothing her frayed nerves.
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‎”Don’t be scared.” the girl had said. “Want me to sing for you?”

‎‎And she’d sung this very song.
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‎You are not alone…
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‎For I am here with you…
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‎Though you’re far away…
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‎”Well?” Meng Xuran drawled, equal parts smug and expectant.
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‎The driver cheered. “Beautiful!”
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‎Bo Mingyan turned her face away—but not before Meng Xuran caught the faintest twitch of her lips.
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‎…
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‎The taxi stopped outside Bo Mingyan’s apartment. After paying, she stepped out, only to find Meng Xuran still seated inside.
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‎Rounding the car, Bo Mingyan yanked the door open. Meng Xuran, cheeks flushed and eyes dazed, emerged with surprising poise, legs pressed together like a proper lady. “Thank you.” she said sweetly—as if Bo Mingyan were nothing more than a doorman.
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‎Clearly spoiled rotten, Bo Mingyan thought, suddenly questioning her decision to bring this troublemaker home.
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‎Upstairs, as Bo Mingyan fumbled with her keys, unmistakable noises seeped through the thin walls of the shared apartment.
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‎The key turned in the lock just as the moans crescendoed.
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‎”Hey! Ma’am! Are you being abused? Should I call the police?”
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‎Before Bo Mingyan could react, Meng Xuran had already marched toward the source and knocked on the offending door.
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‎Bo Mingyan moved fast—grabbing Meng Xuran’s wrist, hauling her inside, and pinning her against the door as it locked behind them.
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‎Next door, the sounds ceased abruptly. Then came curses, slamming doors, and raucous laughter from another room. Soon, the hallway erupted into a shouting match, punctuated by the crash of thrown objects.
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‎Meanwhile, inside Bo Mingyan’s apartment—silence, save for their breathing.
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‎Moonlight spilled across the floor, climbing the walls.
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‎Bo Mingyan’s hand covered Meng Xuran’s mouth, her knee pressing between Meng Xuran’s legs. As the shouting outside continued, she pulled off her glasses in irritation.
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‎The chain of her glasses swayed before Meng Xuran’s eyes.
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‎Meng Xuran stared into those striking, jewel-like irises, her breath slowing. Her lips moved slightly against Bo Mingyan’s palm.
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‎Soft. Warm.
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‎”Don’t make a sound.” Bo Mingyan whispered—a wisp of cool air in the stifling room.
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‎Meng Xuran blinked, her damp lashes brushing Bo Mingyan’s skin.
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‎Bo Mingyan’s fingers twitched. “Why are you crying now?”
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‎Meng Xuran, seeing double, waved a hand vaguely.
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‎Bo Mingyan slowly released her.
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‎Wiping her tears, Meng Xuran mimicked Bo Mingyan’s whisper, “My back hurts. You’re mean.”
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‎”…”
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‎Bo Mingyan stepped aside, gesturing to the couch.
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‎The ghost of warmth lingered on her fingers, Meng Xuran’s tears still damp on her palm. Rubbing her thumb absently, Bo Mingyan turned on the AC and dim lights, then filled the electric kettle from a water bottle.
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‎As she worked, she glanced at Meng Xuran—perched stiffly on the sofa, brows knit as if solving a complex equation.
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‎The kettle clicked off.
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‎”Ah!” Meng Xuran exclaimed, her thoughts finally catching up. “Why wouldn’t you let me talk? Wasn’t she being hit?”
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‎”She wasn’t being hit. Stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, and you’ll be the one getting hit.” Bo Mingyan poured honey into a glass. “And don’t follow strangers home when you’re drunk. It’s dangerous.”
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‎”Oh… Then what was that noise?”. When Bo Mingyan didn’t answer, Meng Xuran added, “I don’t just follow anyone home. I know you’re not ‘that’ kind of a person.”
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‎”…”
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‎Reasoning with a drunk was pointless.
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‎Her phone buzzed—a voice message from Lu Yo, checking in and again offering to help her find an apartment.
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‎Meng Xuran’s ears perked up, eyes tracking Bo Mingyan’s fingers as she typed a reply.
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‎Finished, Bo Mingyan popped open a tin of candy, offering it to Meng Xuran, who shook her head at the colorful array. Shrugging, Bo Mingyan selected a clear mint and tossed it into her mouth.
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‎Time crawled. The argument outside raged on.
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‎Meng Xuran slumped against the couch, eyelids drooping. “So loud…” she grumbled.
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‎Inside, the kettle hissed. Outside, voices faded.
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‎The switch clicked off.
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‎Silence, at last.
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‎Bo Mingyan poured warm honey water into a glass and set it on the table. “Drink this before sleeping.”
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‎Meng Xuran struggled upright. “Where do I sleep?”
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‎The studio apartment was small, with a loft bed above.
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‎No way was Bo Mingyan giving her bed to a stranger. “Couch.”
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‎Meng Xuran drained the glass. “And you?”
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‎Bo Mingyan tossed her a blanket. “Bed.”
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‎”The couch is too hard.” Meng Xuran suddenly wrapped her arms around Bo Mingyan’s thighs, whining, “Sister, love me one more time, okay?”
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‎Caught off-balance, Bo Mingyan stumbled forward, bracing her hands on either side of Meng Xuran’s head, hovering above her.
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‎Close. Too close.
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‎Close enough to see the flecks in Meng Xuran’s brown eyes, the tear-clumped lashes, the beauty mark beneath one eye.
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‎Meng Xuran blinked up at her.
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‎Amused, Bo Mingyan murmured, “How do I love you one more time?”
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‎Warm breath brushed her lips, sweet with alcohol and something cool—mint, maybe.
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‎Just as Bo Mingyan started to pull away, Meng Xuran’s arms looped around her neck, yanking her down.
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‎Their mouths met.
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‎Soft. Like candy. Meng Xuran nipped at her bottom lip, then deepened the kiss with a starving intensity.
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‎Bo Mingyan froze.
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‎A crash from next door snapped her back to reality. She jerked upright, backing into the coffee table.
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‎On the couch, Meng Xuran rolled away, mumbling into the cushions, “Not sweet enough… Should’ve just let me sleep in your… bed.”
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‎The last word faded as she drifted off.
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‎Bo Mingyan touched her tingling lips, expression unreadable. ‎After a moment, she shook out the fallen blanket and draped it over Meng Xuran. Then, glasses in hand, she turned off the lights and climbed the loft in darkness.
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‎On the couch, Meng Xuran’s lashes fluttered. ‎Her tongue darted out, licking her lips.