I sat at the bar counter of the noisy bar, the dim lighting just enough to hide the lingering loneliness in my eyes.
My fingertips gently slid across the cold glass wall. The phone screen was still lit, displaying an elegantly designed digital invitation. The two names on it were embossed in delicate gold lettering, one of which I had called for a full ten years.
“Ten years… what a long time,” I muttered to myself with a sigh, then lifted the glass and downed the remaining liquor in one gulp. The burning sensation scorched my throat and slid down into my stomach, yet it still couldn’t suppress the heavy feeling in my chest.
Looking back on the ten years I spent with my ex-boyfriend—from our innocent college romance, renting a tiny apartment together, enduring the painful adjustment period when we entered the workforce, to the gradual divergence of our social circles and future plans. There was no dramatic third party, no hysterical breakup. In the end, on a quiet weekend afternoon, we simply sat on the sofa and calmly decided to part ways.
It’s been less than two years since the breakup. That relationship wasn’t meaningless; it spanned almost my entire youth and twenties. I just never expected he would meet someone suitable for marriage so quickly.
I genuinely wished him well. Really, I hoped he would be happy. But how should I put it? The heart is made of flesh after all. Watching the person who once accompanied me through my best years step into another stage of life while I sat here alone drinking, that indescribable bitterness and melancholy surged over me like waves.
“Forget it, one more drink.”
I set down the empty glass and reached out to ask the bartender for another,
but just as I raised my hand, a man sitting at the other end of the bar almost simultaneously extended his hand as well.
“Bartender—”
“Excuse me—”
We both spoke at the same time, our voices colliding amid the soft jazz background music.
I paused and turned toward the source of the voice. He turned at the same moment, and our eyes met briefly in the air.
For an instant, time seemed to stand still for about a second.
Though the lighting was dim, I could still make out the man’s silhouette. He looked about thirty-five, tall and solidly built, wearing a well-tailored dark shirt with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing clearly defined and muscular arms.
Facing this sudden unspoken understanding, the man didn’t rush ahead. Instead, he smiled slightly and, very gentlemanly, extended his hand in a “you first” gesture.
“Thank you.” I gave him a polite smile, then turned to the bartender and ordered a cocktail first.
After the bartender nodded and went to work, the man also ordered his drink.
While waiting, the bar’s characteristic murmurs and music resumed. Although I was looking at the tabletop in front of me, my peripheral vision couldn’t help but glance toward the man again.
Despite the dim lighting, it couldn’t hide the mature masculine presence he exuded. His taste was excellent—a simple yet high-quality watch on his wrist, neatly combed hair, and a light stubble on his chin that gave him both a weathered and charming mature appeal.
While I was secretly watching him, the man seemed to notice my gaze and turned his head slightly to look at me.
Caught in the act, I felt a bit embarrassed and was about to look away, but he had already smiled at me and elegantly raised his glass.
Since I’d been discovered, avoiding it would only seem petty. I picked up the freshly served glass and gestured toward him, and so, separated by a few people, we lightly toasted each other.
The ice cubes in the glasses clinked crisply. I took a sip and continued staring blankly at my phone.
After some time, my drink was empty again without me noticing. I was staring dazedly at the ice in the glass when suddenly a fresh cocktail was gently placed on the coaster in front of me by the bartender.
The gradient deep blue liquid looked somewhat cool and elegant under the lights.
I froze for a moment, then looked up at the bartender in confusion. “Ah? I didn’t order this…”
The bartender gave his signature calm smile and pointed toward the other end of the bar. “It’s from the gentleman over there.”
I followed the bartender’s finger and saw the man sitting there, one hand propping up his chin as he looked at me.
When our eyes met, he nodded at me again, his gaze carrying the包容 and invitation of a mature man.
I thought for a moment. Since he had generously bought me a drink, sitting so far apart would seem impolite. Besides… I really needed someone to talk to right now, even if it was just casual chat.
“Thank you for the drink.” I picked up the deep blue cocktail, stood up, and walked over to sit in the empty seat beside him.
Up close, the man’s charm was even stronger. He was about thirty-five, with a faint woody cologne mixed with tobacco and leather scents that carried a strong hormonal aura. Though his eyes were gentle, there was a subtle trace of melancholy between his brows.
He watched me sit down directly, his expression slightly teasing.
Being stared at so intently by such a mature and handsome man made me feel a little uneasy, and my gaze drifted toward the glass beside me.
“If you keep staring at me, I’ll get a bit shy.” The man looked ahead, the corner of his lips slightly upturned, his voice low and magnetic with a hint of playful teasing.
“Oh! Oh… haha! Sorry…” I quickly turned my face away, feeling my ears heat up. Embarrassed, I rubbed my nose. “Thank you for the drink. What’s this cocktail called? It’s pretty good—bittersweet.”
“Lonely Lovers, I think.” The man casually took a sip from his own glass, his gaze drifting into the distance, his tone flat.
“Hmm… what a special name,” I said, twirling the glass in my hands and watching the ice spin. “Does it mean two people together but feeling lonely?”
“Yeah…” the man responded softly, then fell into a brief silence.
Sensing he seemed a bit dispirited and had his own worries, I didn’t say more. I silently took out my phone and glanced again at the gold-embossed digital invitation on the screen, looking at my ex-boyfriend’s smiling photo. That nameless frustration and loss welled up again, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.
“…Looks like you came here to drink alone because you’ve got something on your mind?”
The man spoke quietly. He turned his head slightly, those deep eyes quietly watching me, as if he could see right through the loneliness hidden behind my smile.
I gave a bitter smile and didn’t try to hide it, raising my phone to show the screen. “Yeah… my ex-boyfriend… is getting married. He sent me an invitation.”
Upon hearing the words “ex-boyfriend,” the man’s eyes flickered noticeably, and his previously casual attitude instantly became more serious. He immediately asked, “Ex-boyfriend? Your ex-boyfriend actually sent you a wedding invitation?”
“Yeah… we had an amicable breakup after all,” I said, flipping my phone over and placing it on the table with a self-mocking laugh. “Even though it’s been two years and I feel like I should bless him, receiving the invitation still brings some feelings. After all, it was ten years of my youth.”
After hearing this, the man let out a soft chuckle. There was no mockery in it—only a sense of shared helplessness.
“I understand…” The man turned to take a sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on empty space. “Honestly, I’m sitting here because I also received an invitation from my ex-boyfriend.”
This time it was my turn to be surprised. I widened my eyes and turned to look at him, incredulous. “Huh?! What a coincidence… Your ex-boyfriend’s last name isn’t… ah, probably not. That would be too much of a coincidence.”
I smiled. This man probably wasn’t my ex’s type, so it couldn’t be the same ex, I thought.
The man was amused by my reaction. He turned toward me, his handsome eyes briefly sizing me up, then smiled and said, “Probably not… My ex, like you, is also a bottom.”
I froze for a moment, then felt a bit embarrassed. “How did you know I’m a bottom?”
“I guessed,” the man said with a smile, a straightforward and dangerously attractive glint in his eyes. “Because I hoped you were.”
There seemed to be a subtle implication in that sentence, and my heart skipped a beat involuntarily.
“So… you came here to reminisce too?” I quickly coughed, trying to hide my slightly flushed cheeks.
“Sort of, but not really,” the man said, looking at me gently. His mature demeanor gave a sense of steady reliability. “After all, if I had to do it over, I’d probably still choose to separate. If two people aren’t compatible, forcing it only leads to torment. So there’s nothing to regret or dwell on. I just needed a place to have a drink.”
His words were transparent and mature, the kind of composure that only comes from someone who has been through life’s trials. I couldn’t help but develop a strong liking for him.
In the time that followed, we chatted like old friends who had known each other for years—sharing our views on relationships, insights from our long-term past romances, and the complex, subtle feelings that come with receiving a wedding invitation.
I have to say, this man was incredibly charming. His name didn’t really matter; what mattered was that he understood every point I made.
The alcohol began to ferment in our bloodstreams, and the bar’s lighting seemed to grow even dimmer and softer.
I don’t know who started leaning in first—maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the collision of two lonely souls in the late night. As we talked, our bodies drew closer and closer.
His woody cologne mixed with a faint scent of alcohol enveloped me. I could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against my cheek.
In another moment of eye contact—
His gaze was so deep it seemed to pull me in. I didn’t look away; instead, I slightly lifted my head.
The next second, his lips covered mine.
“Mmm…”
It was a mature, deep, and aggressive kiss. His lips were soft yet carried a strong sense of control. His tongue easily parted my teeth and intertwined with mine. The taste of alcohol spread between our mouths, accompanied by the sound of saliva mixing. I felt my legs begin to weaken, and my hands instinctively gripped his solid forearm.
When the kiss ended and we parted, a thin silver thread stretched between us. Panting, I looked at the man whose eyes had turned heated. The loneliness and desire I had suppressed for so long were instantly ignited.
I leaned close to his ear and whispered in a seductive, suggestive tone:
“…I’m here on a business trip today. My hotel room is nearby…”
———————————————————————————————
From the bar to the hotel room was only a five-minute walk, but those five minutes felt like an eternity of torment for both of us.
The door lock beeped loudly as it unlocked. The moment the door was pushed open a crack, we didn’t even bother turning on the living room light. We immediately embraced and kissed passionately in the entryway.
“Mmm… mmh…”
He pressed me firmly against the wall, his strong hands gripping my waist as a torrent of kisses rained down. We stripped each other while moving, shirts and jackets carelessly tossed to the floor. In our haste and without lights, my wing accidentally hit the doorframe, and he bumped into the corner of a table in the living room. We both let out soft laughs, then immediately fell back into a deeper kiss.
Stumbling into the bedroom, moonlight streamed through the uncurtained floor-to-ceiling windows onto the bed.
The man pushed me down onto the soft bed.
He looked down at me, his eyes filled with raw desire. We frantically unzipped each other’s pants and kicked them off to the foot of the bed.
The man climbed onto the bed, his muscular build exerting an overwhelming presence. He forcefully spread my legs with his knees and pressed his body over mine. At this point, I was left wearing only a pair of briefs and white ankle socks on my feet. This half-naked state only made the atmosphere even more erotic.
“You’re really cute…” He chuckled lowly, then leaned down and began licking and kissing from my neck downward.