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The lightbulbs in their kitchen – all three of them – mysteriously shattered within four days. The tragic thing is that, neither Wei Ying nor Lan Zhan took the initiative to buy a new dozen, and now their kitchen feels like a literal haunted house.
And then, in the middle of the night, Wei Ying insists to get pudding.
Lan Zhan, “I’ll cook you something instead.”
“Um, you attempted to cook in the dark yesterday, and you almost gave me, yourself, and the kitchen third-degree burns.”
Fair point – Lan Zhan admits his shortcoming. Just getting pudding is much easier and quicker, anyway.
“You know, this is actually not that bad at all,” Wei Ying says, taking out a pudding cup from the refrigerator. He leaves the door ajar. “See? The light from the living room doesn’t illuminate too well, but if you let the refrigerator light up, the lighting becomes romantic.”
He opens the lid of the cup, and Lan Zhan, noticing that Wei Ying’s business in the kitchen is over, walks to leave into the light. Wei Ying leans over the counter to eat instead.
“Why hurry? Stay here for a bit, Lan Zhan. Don’t tell me you’re afraid?”
“Of course I am not.”
What Wei Ying said before makes sense. The atmosphere does reek of romance. Dimly-lit kitchen, suspended particles by the refrigerator door, the air is chilly and all is quiet, and the moon, impeccably full tonight, is visible from the kitchen window. Slow, calming music would perfect the situation right now...
“Ah, right,” Wei Ying wipes the corner of his mouth. Lan Zhan doesn’t know how seeing his lover eat pudding at almost midnight in their lamp-less kitchen, bathed by the refrigerator light, could make him feel as though it’s really the first time falling in love. “It’s just like in the movies. Slow dancing in the comfort of your home, except the lights are out. What do you think?”
“Hum to me our favorite song.”
Wei Ying laughs, then walks over to Lan Zhan. He takes Lan Zhan’s hands, gently placing them on around his own hips. “Then, may I have this dance?”