Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

Simon had always been slim, but before he’d brimmed with a vigorous vitality, possessing the lean, sturdy build of a young man.

But now, Joanna rarely saw that youthful, high-spirited air about him.

Life, academics, and love—each was an invisible pressure, leaving him no room to relax for even a moment.

Simon was a much better cook than her. At the dinner table, after Joanna finished her meal, she made a rare move to volunteer for dish duty.

She hadn’t even stood up before Simon grabbed her wrist.

”What is it?” Joanna asked, her eyes filled with confusion.

The words had barely left her lips when everything suddenly went black. The dim, yellow light overhead had gone out.

”I-I-Is it a ghost?!”

Joanna cried out. Her hand trembled, and the bowl she was holding slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor.

Simon’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he could gradually make out her silhouette. He slid his hand down from her wrist to clasp her trembling hand. ”Don’t be afraid. It’s probably just a power outage.”

Unstable voltage was a common problem in old neighborhoods. If any household happened to be using a high-power appliance, it could trip the circuit breaker. This had happened many times before.

”Turn on your phone’s flashlight and sit tight. Don’t wander off. I’m going to go check outside,” Simon said.

Joanna nodded obediently, took out her phone, and turned on the flashlight. When she saw Simon standing at the window looking out, she couldn’t help but follow him. ”What is it? Is the power really out?”

Outside was a sea of darkness. They could hear a neighbor shouting, ”This damn wiring! The second I have money, I’m moving out of this place!”

’So it really is a power outage.’

Simon felt around for a flashlight and switched it on. ”The power won’t be back anytime soon. I’ll go clean up.”

Holding the small flashlight, he walked over to the dinner table and crouched down.

Joanna immediately stopped him. Meeting Simon’s questioning gaze, she said, a little sheepishly, ”I’ll do it...”

”Don’t worry about it. It’s just a broken bowl,” Simon said.

Simon picked up the white porcelain bowl, which had shattered into several pieces. He didn’t throw them straight into the trash. Instead, he took out some tape and wound it around the shards several times, making sure the sharp, broken edges were completely covered before tossing the bundle into the bin.

Joanna didn’t understand. ”Why are you wrapping them up?”

Simon replied, ”The stray dogs nearby jump into the dumpsters to look for food.”

Everyone in the alley threw their trash into a communal dumpster not far away. The exposed, sharp edges could cut the stray dogs that came looking for food.

...

Joanna said nothing. As Simon picked up the trash bag to take it out, she scurried to catch up with him. ”It’s too dark. I’ll go with you...”

The room was pitch-black, and Simon didn’t feel right leaving her there alone. He gave her forehead a reassuring rub. ”Did the bowl hit your foot?”

Joanna shook her head.

Fearing she was just trying to be brave, Simon crouched down to check for himself. He had her lift her calf and pushed up her pant leg. Thankfully, she was dressed warmly for the season, so no skin had been exposed.

Joanna rested a hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. The position felt strangely intimate, making her feel flustered. Her skin tingled and grew hot wherever his fingers touched.

She flinched slightly, her palm growing sweaty where it rested on Simon’s shoulder. She turned her head aside. ”...Stop looking.”

Simon, thinking she was just uncomfortable holding her leg up, pulled her pant leg back down. He then carefully straightened the sock he had displaced. ”Okay, I’ll stop looking.”

Joanna was taken aback, then she mumbled coyly, ”It’s not that I don’t want you to look...”

It took him a second to understand. Playing along, he asked, ”So, you’re saying you *do* want me to look?”

”...”

’How did this conversation get so out of hand?’

A flirtatious tension began to fill the air between them. Seeing the girl’s face flush crimson, with no signs of stopping, Simon’s heart melted. He took the initiative to change the subject. ”Want to go for a walk?”

”The flowers on the streets outside the alley are gorgeous right now.”

Her face burning, Joanna felt almost dizzy. ”Mm-hmm...”

They closed the door. Before they left, Simon went back to his room to grab something; Joanna heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing.

But when he came out, his hands were empty. Simon took her hand and tucked it into his coat pocket. ”Let’s go.”

Joanna’s moods came and went in a flash. One moment she was impossibly shy, the next she was leaning against Simon as if she were boneless.

Half-supporting, half-carrying her, Simon guided her out of the alley.

The moon was bright tonight. In its light, they could see the pink climbing roses twined around the walls on both sides of the street, stretching on and on. Farther ahead, there were white orange jessamines.

They walked hand in hand the entire way, and Joanna, growing excited, stood under the flowers and had Simon take her picture.

The resulting photo was a dark, blurry mess. Joanna’s eyes widened in disbelief. ”How could you take such an ugly picture of me!” she pouted.

In the photo, Joanna’s fair, pretty face looked like it had been smeared with soot. The only distinct features were her two large eyes, which glowed like they had special effects added—two points of bright light.

Simon: ”...”

He brought a half-closed fist to his lips, trying to stifle a laugh, then put on a serious expression. ”My photography is bad. I’ll get the hang of it if I take a few more.”

Joanna looked at him dubiously. ”Really?”

”Really.”

Deciding to trust him one more time, Joanna stood under the roses again and flashed a peace sign with one hand. She waited for a while but didn’t hear Simon say he was done.

She held her practiced smile. ”Are you done yet?”

Simon didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes on his phone screen, watching as the girl on it switched poses, making a peace sign with her other hand.

If Joanna were to look, she’d realize he wasn’t taking photos at all, but was recording a video.

After a long moment, just as Joanna was about to complain, Simon finally said, ”All done.”

Joanna pounced on him, draping herself over his body, dying to know what the new pictures looked like. ”Let me see, let me see!”

But Simon just slipped the phone into his pocket. ”Nope.”

”Simon!”

”They didn’t turn out well. I was afraid you’d get upset,” he said, placating her.

Joanna thought back to that first ghost-like photo and, fearing she might see a few more pictures that were hideously unflattering, reluctantly conceded, ”Fine.”

They walked back hand in hand, the moonlight casting their two cuddling silhouettes on the ground.

As they were about to leave the ”path of roses,” Simon suddenly slowed his pace. ”...Joanie.”

Joanna, who had grown quite used to the nickname, answered, ”Hm?”

”I...” Simon began, but then trailed off.

Joanna hugged his arm, nuzzling against it. ”What is it?”

”...It’s nothing.”

’What was that about?’

There he went again with his habit of starting a sentence and not finishing it. Annoyed, Joanna gave his arm a light smack.

They had barely taken two more steps when Simon stopped again. Under Joanna’s glare, he kept a straight face and said, ”I got paid a couple of days ago.”

Joanna: ”?”

She said drily, ”That’s great.”

Simon: ”...”

He slowly took a small, exquisitely wrapped box from his pocket. In the moonlight, Joanna saw the logo printed on it.

It was a bracelet from an affordable luxury brand.

Her throat tightened. ”You... why did you buy this?”

Simon pursed his lips, his voice a little low. ”I thought it looked nice.”

”...But it’s not a special occasion today.” She forced a smile, but her eyes were growing misty.

”Mm, I know,” Simon’s voice was low and deep.