Amelia Clarke stepped out of the private room and immediately saw Owen Moreland by the window at the end of the corridor, talking on the phone.
With his back to the window, the light from outside cast a faint halo around his silhouette. He held the phone with one hand and a cigarette with the other, his broad shoulders projecting a sense of reliable steadiness.
Even the gesture of flicking ash from the cigarette was filled with an extraordinary masculine charm.
Amelia walked a few steps forward, then stopped at a respectful distance.
Owen's deep, magnetic voice rose and fell, like the resonant tolling of a heavy bell, piercing into her heart through the eardrum.
After waiting for a while, Owen put down his phone.
Amelia hurried over.
As Owen turned around, he saw the girl standing behind him, her lips carrying a shy, obedient smile, and her eyes sparkling, like stars in the sky.
"Why did you come out? Are you full?" he asked.
From the pocket of her wool coat, Amelia took out a handkerchief and offered it to him, saying, "For that day's business, thank you, Mr. Moreland. I've washed the handkerchief clean."
Owen looked down.
The girl's hands were small and white, her fingers delicate, as if a gentle twist could break them. The dark blue handkerchief nested in her palm, making her fair hands appear even more like jade.
Suddenly, the corners of his mouth curled into a smile that was not quite a smile.
For a moment.
He raised his hand to take the handkerchief, casually slipping it into his trouser pocket.
His fingertips unintentionally brushed against Amelia's, the touch dry and warm, slightly rough; Amelia's fingers trembled, and she quickly withdrew her hand.
Shortly after, she managed a smile on her lips, and in a soft voice, she said, "Then I'll go back. I won't disturb you."
No sooner had she turned to leave...
"Owen?"
A melodious female voice came from behind.
Amelia turned to see a mature, knowledgeable, and beautiful woman approaching.
The woman's eyes were gentle, her gaze benevolent, but within that warmth and kindness hid a subtle vigilance.
And moreover, Owen?
It was said with great intimacy.
Amelia lowered her head and moved aside to make way, ready to return to the private room.
"Who is this?" the woman asked.
Amelia knew she was asking Owen who she was.
Without waiting for Owen to answer, she introduced herself: "Hello, my name is Amelia Clarke. I'm Mia Moreland's classmate, and I came here to have dinner with her."
"Amelia Clarke?" the woman asked with a smile, "How is it written?"
"The 'Amelia' from the leaf of a tree, and the 'Clarke' from love at first sight," she replied.
The woman responded with a laugh, "Love at first sight, what a lovely name. Mine isn't as beautiful. I'm Serene Abel, 'Serene' as in surplus, 'Abel' as in the quiet charm of a secluded sound."
Amelia chuckled, "Your name is also very nice... I won't bother you any longer, goodbye."
Serene Abel nodded, and Amelia turned to walk back.
"Owen, where did you go just now? You had us waiting for so long," Serene's voice held a light reproof from behind, indicating a definite familiarity with Owen.
Amelia pursed her lips and quickened her steps.
After returning to the private room and settling down, Owen pushed the door open and entered.
Amelia gave him a curious glance, as she hadn't expected him to return.
Owen's seriousness made the atmosphere in the private room a bit oppressive, but fortunately, Mia was lively enough to prevent it from becoming suffocating.
Nearing the end of the meal.
The door to the private room was suddenly pushed open.
The newcomer was an elegantly charming man, appearing to be about the same age as Owen. He came in teasing Owen, "I was wondering where you had disappeared to for half the day. It turns out you were here meeting a beautiful lady, enjoying yourself, eh!"
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The tone was flippant.
With a casual glance from his peach-blossom eyes, he looked at Amelia Clarke and Viola Harris somewhat amazedly, "Well now, having two beauties here, how could you not invite a brother to join in?"
"Hi everyone, my last name is Wilson, first name Finn," he said as he took out his business card, "Here's my card, it has my private number on it ..."
Owen Moreland snatched the business card Finn had just taken out, "They're just kids."
Not giving Finn a chance to retaliate, he stood up and said, "Didn't we say we were heading to 'Peony Garden'? Let's go now."
Finn's gaze was still glued to Viola and Amelia, "Beauties, my number is ... "
Owen's gaze darkened, "Are you coming or not?"
With that stern look from him, Finn was somewhat afraid.
Reluctantly stowing away his flirtatious thoughts, Finn waved goodbye to Viola and Amelia with regret, "Beauties, until we meet again."
Once the private room door closed, Mia showed her disdain and said, "Don't mind him, he's famously promiscuous, changes girlfriends more often than clothes. I often see him taking women for abortions, doesn't he fear dying on a woman's bed?"
Viola asked, "Is the 'Peony Garden' they mentioned that famous nightclub in Capital City?"
Mia grimaced again, as if something upsetting came to mind, and said indignantly, "Exactly! Those men love going to such places, as they say, crows of a feather flock together!"
Amelia sipped her tea quietly, her eyelashes down, not joining in the conversation.
It was half past nine when they left the private room.
Just stepping out of the restaurant, a Black Cayenne pulled up in front of the group.
Benjamin Richardson's plump face popped out from the car window, "Miss Moreland, Mr. Moreland had to leave early for business, he's asked me to drive you back to the university."
Mia sat in the copilot seat, while Amelia, Viola, and Rosy Mone took the back seats.
Along the way, Mia and Benjamin chatted about this and that.
The Cayenne stopped at the entrance to Bordine University, and once the four of them got out, Benjamin dialed Owen's number, getting straight to the point after the call connected, "Mr. Moreland, I've dropped them back at the university."
A faint 'Hmm' came from the other end.
As Amelia and the others hastened towards the girls' dormitory, they saw Matthew from a distance, standing under a streetlamp.
Matthew was a grade above them, in the same class as Ciara Taylor and her sister, tall and handsome. Ciara had pursued him for nearly three years, yet he had fallen for Amelia at first sight.
Seeing Amelia, a burst of joy shone in Matthew's handsome eyes as he hurried over, holding some hard-to-find fruits in his hand, offering them to Amelia with a smile, "Amelia, I knew I would find you, here are some fruits for you."
With a muted expression, Amelia looked up at the beaming young man, "I don't like eating fruits, thank you. Please don't do this again, people might get the wrong idea."
Disappointment flickered in Matthew's eyes, but he quickly perked up, "Then what do you like? I'll buy that for you next time."
Seeing that he seemed to have completely missed the rejection in her words, Amelia felt suddenly tired.
Why should she deal with these people?
They were only interested in her because of her slightly above average appearance, if she were more ordinary, she doubted Matthew would even speak to her, let alone wait for her for so long.
"Matthew, I..." She should speak more bluntly and sharply.
But just as she began to speak, her phone rang, a regular instrumental ringtone.
The conversation was cut off as she took out her phone to see Ciara calling.
An ambiguous smile curled on her lips, "Excuse me, I have to take this call."
She stepped aside to answer.
Ciara's angry voice came through immediately, "Amelia Clarke, what the hell do you want? Are you trying to seduce someone else's man like your mother? You slut, stay away from Matthew! Otherwise, I'll make you regret it!"
Amelia looked down, imagining Ciara must have been hiding nearby, spying on this very scene.
Without responding, she simply hung up.
She walked back to Matthew and said, "Ciara just called me, told me to stay away from you. Please don't come looking for me again, your attention has brought me enough trouble, goodbye."
Anger welled up in Matthew's eyes, "Is she bothering you again?"
Amelia's gaze was lowered as she gently shook her head, then brushed past his shoulder and ran into the dormitory.
Sometimes, the more one remains silent, the more it intensifies the conflict.
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