A few seconds after he called out, a repairman stood up. He was tall, almost blocking the light from the ceiling. Dressed in a simple tank top and a pair of jeans, he had a tight body that still had proportionate muscles that glowed slightly red because of the sweat and hard work. You could almost imagine the contours of his abs from his narrow waist. Stains covered his unsophisticated jeans, yet he seemed rustic and unrestrained in them.
He seemed to have a physique that results in a feeling of having one's personal space being violated, making me feel as though something had touched my face.
As such, after only a glance, I moved my sights away. Vaguely, I had the impression that his facial features were proper and attractive. After a second or two, as though the corner of my eyes had legs of their own, I took another glance at his back.
He passed by in front of me.
His slightly long bangs covered his forehead, and he had his face turned the other way, so I could not take a good look at his face. He did not greet me, acting as though I, the owner of the car, was not here. He crouched down and used his finger to wipe away the dirt, revealing the scratch underneath. There were calluses on his long-fingered hand, on his fingertips, and the area between his thumb and index finger. His rough hands that belonged to a repairman seemed somewhat sexy to me for some reason.
He stood up and put on his gloves. My height did not even reach his shoulders. I had wanted to poke his back with my finger, yet I could not do it for some reason. So, I asked, Can it be fixed?
Sure. His voice was deep and hoarse, with a hint of cigarette scent.
How much will it be? I asked.
You decide.
I could not help but look at him with surprise, This guys got some attitude. After making a quick estimation, I replied, Would three hundred do?
Sure. he lowered his head and went to get the tools promptly.
Yet, I became stunned.
Why do I feel a sense of familiarity the more I look at him?
No way. This is my first time here, and Ive never been acquainted with any repairman. As such, I slowly strolled over to the other side of the car. He did not seem to notice this and kept his head down, working.
I came within one meter of him and covertly looked at him from the front.
Right then, he looked up all of a sudden.
I became dumbfounded and felt as though my heart had received a punch.
Since you came alone, would you mind if we had dinner together?
These stupid books, nonsensical romance. Utter trash!
Shes not my girlfriend, shes my sister.
His tough yet delicate appearance seemed to be carved from the same mold as the man in my dream; there was also that jet black hair and his tall stature.
But, how can this be him?
My thoughts were a mess.
Yet, with a calm gaze, he took a look at me and continued working with his head down as though he saw a total stranger.
All of a sudden, I felt enlightened. My logical mind returned to function after the shock. No, this is impossible. One was a graduate from a famous school with a bright future, destined to enter the upper echelons of society. The other is just a lowly car repairman.
Also, upon closer inspection, you would find that even though the two had similar facial features, there were still differences. That man was smooth-skinned and skinny at that time. How could he possess a body of muscles that had gone through hardship? The man in front of me even had stubbles on his chin. He had a slightly skinnier face with facial features that seemed rougher.
One was like a perfectly round and smooth indoor pearl, while the other was an angular, wild, and black rock.
It seemed impossible to me that a persons appearance and manner would have such a drastic transformation in a mere few weeks.
My whole person felt relieved after thinking this through. Even though the man in front of me was a lowly repairman, he was much more attractive and wild compared to the smart a** I met on the ship.
Right then, the man that first greeted me brought a chair over and ushered me to take a seat on the side. Then he started to introduce to me the car wash plan advertised outside. I agreed to sign up for it, and he said, Miss, Ill need your name and telephone number.
Tan Jiao. It's the Tan with the radical Yan, while Jiao is the character for bright. I also told him my telephone number.
I am not sure if it was just me, but out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly saw an obvious pause from the man that was crouched there, working on the paint. I turned to look, but he was back to his work, focused with his head down.
A thought came to mind, and I wondered, What did he call him just now? Brother Yu?
My gaze fell upon a plaque on the wall that had the information about the workers.
The third name there, Wu Yu, felt like it would be his name for some odd reason.
Simple yet good for some reason.
Come to think of it, I dont even know the name of that man I met on the ship.