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墨書 Inktalez
The next day marked the first fitting for the opening show dress, titled "Nirvana." This gown had consumed the most of my efforts; it was the very soul of my entire collection.
The fitting room was spacious, with pure white walls and a large floor-to-ceiling mirror that made the space feel even more expansive. Ran removed his jacket, revealing a simple black tank top that showcased his smooth, well-defined muscles. Over the years, he had sculpted himself into a perfect work of art, every inch just right.
Xiao Ya held her breath as she carefully helped him into the gown. I approached with a measuring tape and pins, forcing myself to shift into work mode.
"Hand," I said succinctly. He raised his arm.
"Turn around." He complied and turned. He was tall, requiring me to tilt my head back to see his face.
In the mirror, our reflections showed two figures: one focused on measuring, the other expressionless, like two strangers. But what was this subtle electricity in the air? I could clearly smell the faint woody scent of his cologne.
This feeling was too familiar—familiar enough to make my heart race. My fingertips brushed against the fabric on his back, sending a chill through me. To achieve the perfect drape, this material had been procured through connections from Italy.
My gaze swept over his shoulder blades, where there had once been a tiny mole... Stop! Xia Wan! What are you thinking?!
I suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing my fingers had lingered on his back for far too long.
Ran seemed to sense it too, glancing at me through the mirror with a deep gaze that revealed no emotion. I quickly withdrew my hand, pretending to remain calm as I continued measuring.
"The waistline is quite nice," I tried to make my voice sound professional. "But the lines on your back..."
I reached out to adjust the folds behind him, my fingertips inevitably brushing against his skin. He stiffened slightly, almost imperceptibly. My heart skipped a beat.
"Here," I quickly pinned a brooch in place, "it needs to be a bit more fitted."
"Mm," he responded softly.
I hurriedly recorded the data and stepped back, taking him in from head to toe in the mirror. I had to admit, he was a natural model. This incredibly difficult gown was elevated by his presence, transcending the design itself. The sense of fragmentation, struggle, and subsequent rebirth was portrayed vividly through him. It felt as if this dress had been made for him alone.
That thought left me feeling quite unsettled.
"That's enough," I said, putting down the measuring tape and turning to Xiao Ya. "Did you get all the measurements?"
Xiao Ya nodded eagerly.
Ran silently began to remove the gown. His movements were fluid, without a hint of hesitation. I kept my head down, pretending to organize the design sketches, not wanting to look at him.
Footsteps echoed as he walked toward the door. Just when I thought the fitting would end in silence, he paused at the entrance. My heart tightened, and I couldn't help but lift my gaze.
He didn't turn around, just stood sideways to me, leaving me with a perfect jawline.
"Nice design."
His voice was soft, brushing against my eardrum like a feather.
Then the door was pulled open and closed again.
He was gone.
Only I and Xiao Ya remained in the fitting room.
Xiao Ya let out a long breath, patting her chest. "You scared me! The air pressure was so low just now that I could barely breathe."
I said nothing and walked over to the full-length mirror, staring at the dazed reflection of myself.
Nice design?
Was that... a compliment?
Coming from him, it felt so awkward.
I irritably ran my fingers through my hair.
Ran, what exactly do you want?
Are you here to watch me make a fool of myself, or do you have some other intentions?
I couldn't understand him.
Just like three years ago, when I couldn't grasp why he suddenly disappeared.
Forget it, I thought.
What mattered now was to do well in this show.
As for him...
I'll face whatever comes my way.
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