Solo Love Ballad

Chapter 2

Everything felt like a dream, from the soft opening at his friend's restaurant to returning to his mid-levels apartment.

When I woke up the following day, I experienced a peaceful kind of happiness—this feeling was different from waking up next to anyone else before. For the first time, I felt completely fulfilled and content.

The air is filled with the aroma of freshly ground coffee. Max is carefully busying himself in the kitchen, dressed in a simple white shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up. His movements are gentle, cautious not to wake me in the bedroom.

The table gradually filled with a feast. Max smiled with satisfaction as he gently carried the breakfast to the bedside. A look of happiness spread across his face.

"Good morning!" A tender kiss wakes me from my sleep.

I slowly open my eyes in the haze and feel a warm embrace gently wrapping around me. The familiar scent of Max and the lingering trace of last night's wine pull me back into the tenderness of our night together.

Leaning down, our lips and tongues entwined as if trying to absorb the other completely. My body blossomed like a flower in full bloom, surrendering everything in this nourishing moment.

After a passionate moment, the once-warm coffee by the bed had cooled down. My phone screen lit up, signalling a new message.

Feeling guilty, I was wary of Max discovering anything that might make him think I was just a casual flirt, so I didn't immediately open the message.

Max, however, didn't seem bothered by the notification. Leaning lazily against the bedframe, he was scrolling through today's news on his phone.

"I'm going to the bathroom for a bit," I said, partly to give myself a moment to breathe and partly to see if Max would try to sneak a look at my phone while I was gone.

I did nothing except sit quietly on the toilet seat.

The longest time is spent doing things you don't want to do.

"Why are you taking so long? I thought you might have drowned in there—I was about to call an ambulance," Max teased as I finally emerged.

"Was I really in there that long?" I responded, grabbing my phone with a casual air. "What time is it, anyway?" I pretended to ask.

"Wow, it's already 10:20!" I said, taking the opportunity to glance at the message. But after reading only half of it, I hastily put my phone down.

This tiny, nervous gesture didn't escape Max's notice.

"Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable here?" he asked, watching me closely.

"No, it's just... I feel like time flew by since yesterday," I replied, picking up the coffee by the bed and taking a sip to steady myself.

The coffee is cold now and tastes a bit sour, but at least it helped me calm down. As I drank slowly, I thought up excuses to leave for another meeting and wondered how to make my exit without being rude. After all, Max had made a lavish breakfast, and I didn't want to seem ungrateful.

Minutes ticked by, and I was bringing noon closer and closer.

"Try the toast I made instead of just drinking coffee," Max said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I took a small bite and nibbled on a few strawberries.

"Is that bad? You've barely eaten," he asked.

"No, no, it's not that. It's just... I don't have much appetite in the morning," I quickly explained.

If I had finished all this breakfast, I wouldn't have been able to eat lunch with another person later. I knew lying wasn't right, but I couldn't think of a better way to manage this situation. I hoped this would keep Max satisfied for now.

Listening thoughtfully, Max commented, "You probably need more exercise—it gets your body moving and stimulates your appetite."

"Didn't we have a 'workout' together this morning?" I joked.

However, I couldn't help but admire how knowledgeable he seemed.

Max suddenly leaned over me again at that moment, whispering softly, "I'll make your appetite soar." As his breathing grew deeper and closer, I could only feel the increasing warmth of his presence, like the tide gradually submerging me and leaving burning traces on my skin.

I was about to leave Max's place when time is almost 12:40.

My phone quickly rang with several new text notifications.

Standing right in front of Max, I opened them directly this time. I knew I was already late for this lunch meeting.

I left directly from Max's place. While putting on my shoes, I proactively told Max about my lunch plans. "I had arranged to have lunch with another guy previously."

He pretended to be hurt and said, "After getting my body, you're going to have lunch with another man."

I took off my shoes immediately and told him, "I'll stay if you want me to!"

He hugged me happily and said: "Go ahead, go ahead."

It was a tasteless meal. Afterwards, I planned to go home for a shower. I hadn't even adequately removed last night's makeup and felt quite dishevelled.

On the metro, I opened my phone to find many w******p notifications. All from Max.

When I checked, I saw that I had asked him, "What are you doing?"

He had responded with selfies of everything he was doing.

The first was he's frowning in his kitchen with a bowl of vegetables and grilled chicken breast, captioned "healthy food".

The second was a selfie of his calves and feet in the bathroom, captioned "about to shower".

The last was his bed, captioned "changing my bedsheet. Had a crazy night last night !"

I found myself grinning stupidly at my phone while reading these.

Then, a new message popped up.

Max asked: "How was lunch? Did I lose you already?"

I replied, "Don't worry, I'm yours."

He instantly responded: "Good, I like that."

We kept messaging back and forth like this. I even took my phone into the shower, not missing his messages.

He asked: "What were you doing tonight? I want to see you."

He added words: "We don't have to be at home, we could go on a date. Or I could come to your area if I don't want to travel far."

A quote from BoJack Horseman goes something like "Is it normal that I've already slept with you but still want to spend more time doing other things with you?"

Max's messages conveyed several essential things to me: this man wanted to see me, but not just for s*x. He was willing to spend time sitting down for a meal to get to know me better. He was also considerate and thought about whether the date and location would be closer for me.

He came to my area, and we ate at Amaroni's in Festival Walk that evening.

Italian food is a safe option when dating foreign men in Hong Kong before you figure out their tolerance for Asian cuisine. It guarantees that we'll both find something we like.

Although Max chose the restaurant, I suspected he must have a similar theory about dating Asian women.

After we sat down, the first line of Max's opening statement： "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I picked this Italian restaurant. I heard it's popular with the locals."

Just as I expected! I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

Max looked at me, puzzled. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Not at all!" I said, still chuckling. "It's just funny because you said exactly what I was thinking—Italian cuisine is always a safe choice, something everyone can enjoy."

Max caught on and laughed, too. "So, you base your restaurant choices on safety first?"

"At least for the first time, yes! Would you rather we each eat our country's food, then look at each other and say, 'This is delicious'?"

"Hahaha…" Max laughed, his face fully relaxed, smile lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

Halfway through dinner, a few notifications lit up Max's phone on the table. His eyes darted to it, and I noticed a hint of tension on his face. My intuition told me it was probably something important, but I kept eating, pretending not to see anything.

"This restaurant does have great food—no wonder it's so popular," Max said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Italian cuisine is a safe choice."

After dinner, he paid the bill and took my hand as we left. We walked hand in hand through Festival Walk, going floor by floor, not buying anything.

We were both testing the waters, uncertain of each other's intentions and what to do next.

During this time, Max went to the restroom. When he came out, I saw him on the phone, speaking rapid French. I stood to the side like a silly person, hearing only his voice and not understanding what was being said on the other end.

"Sorry, that was a call," Max apologized for his behaviour.

"No problem," I replied politely.

Honestly, even if he had tried to explain, I would've been OK with anything since I don't understand French. Is it related to the texts he received earlier?