The summer in Chiwood was suffocating, with temperatures nearing forty degrees, causing the ground to emit waves of heat. The bus was filled with sweaty bodies, packed tightly together, as rush hour traffic slowed down the crowded vehicle inch by inch. Aoife found herself in the middle of it all, holding onto the overhead loop with all her might. The weather had made her uncomfortable since noon, and now, on the bus, she felt as if she were suffering from heatstroke – chest tightening, head spinning, struggling to breathe in the foul air. Her body uncontrollably swayed, craving a place to sit, but every step was a challenge in the jam-packed bus. Aoife felt dizzy and swollen, yearning for the bus to move faster. Unable to bear it any longer, she got off midway, knowing it would take at least twenty minutes to walk back.
Her legs ached as she squatted by the roadside, bought a bottle of cold water, and pressed it against her forehead after taking a few sips. Her stomach was uneasy, almost nauseous. Her phone vibrated abruptly in her bag, and despite feeling unwell, she hurriedly checked the message. It was from Finn, concise and to the point – asking her to return. Finn disliked calling Aoife; to him, wasting words and emotions on her was pointless. Aoife, easy to push around, never got angry – or more accurately, she was simply incredibly tolerant. Despite feeling dizzy, receiving Finn’s message prompted her to rush back immediately.
She was still catching her breath as she climbed the stairs, her frantic movements making her throat itch, each breath feeling like she might vomit. Taking the elevator upstairs, leaning against the wall, sweat covering her face, her exhausted gait revealing her weariness. Facing the door in front of her, Aoife took two deep breaths, composed herself, and then opened it with her keys. It was still early evening in Chiwood, yet the apartment was dimly lit, with tightly drawn curtains, enveloped in silence.
Had it not been for Finn’s message, Aoife would have thought the place deserted. The desolate silence in the house was suffocating, overwhelming her with a sense of pressure. Involuntarily holding her breath, she stepped quietly into the living room. Spotting a figure on the couch, her initial nerves turned to relief, as the fatigue melted away. With the room dark and the curtains blocking out the light, all she could see was a silhouette and a reddish glow on the couch. Recognizing the scent of cigarette smoke, she flicked on the light, revealing Finn with a slightly dismissive and harsh gaze, which always made Aoife shudder. Each time she met his eyes directly, it sent a chill down her spine.
“Mr. Snearl, you’re here?” She stammered, her voice trembling. “Are you hungry? I’ll cook something now…” Finn watched her come in, a thin smile on his lips, not uttering a word. With the cigarette burning in his hand, wisps of grey smoke rising lazily, ashes with sparks falling to the floor. Upon hearing Aoife offer to cook, Finn extinguished the cigarette on the nearby coffee table, leaving a small orange-red mark.
Aoife could never quite decipher Finn’s thoughts. His silence, coupled with his cigarette-stubbing gesture, accelerated her heartbeat. A voice in her head urged her to leave, or at least not face Finn directly. Lowering her gaze and biting her lip, she quickly headed to the kitchen, grabbing an apron from the wall to put on. Just as she was about to open the fridge, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind, and before she could react, she was thrown to the ground with a loud thud, causing a sharp pain as if her bones had been dislocated.
Gasping for air, eyes reddened and watering, Aoife didn’t understand what she had done wrong. She merely raised her head timidly, looking at Finn, not daring to make a sound out of fear of provoking him. Finn had a temper, warning her from the moment her agent brought her here. After living in the apartment for half a year, she had witnessed Finn’s unpredictable mood swings.
“Where have you been, smelling like this?” Finn towered over her, eyes filled with disgust and disdain. He didn’t have a cleanliness obsession, but he couldn’t stand her coming back filthy from outside work. Trembling, Aoife whispered, “I… I went to work…” Finn sneered, “Didn’t I tell you not to work? It’s not like I can’t afford you. Are you short of money?” Coming from a humble background in the mountains, Aoife’s definition of work involved mainly washing dishes and clearing plates, getting dirty and smelly in the process.
Still on the ground, Aoife didn’t dare to get up as Finn stood over her. Feeling weak and shivering with fear, she looked up at Finn and tried to appease him. “I wanted to earn more money for you…” Her upbringing taught her not to freeload or take advantage, emphasizing that one must work for what they receive. Now that she was an adult, she felt the need to carry her own weight and not rely on men for support.
Surprised by the price Finn mentioned for the violin, Aoife realized it was an exorbitant sum, something she had never imagined having in her life. Peering into Aoife’s eyes, which resembled Elisa’s, Finn could see the fear and confusion. Calm and clear, her eyes resembled those of a newborn deer – vulnerable and lacking in security, dark and clear, reflecting his image.
Though Aoife and Elisa shared some resemblance in appearance, their demeanor and aura differed vastly. Aoife was deeply saddened, unsure of her mistake. She just wanted to earn more money, even if her efforts seemed insignificant to Finn. Feeling like she was being despised, which she had experienced in the mountains, Aoife couldn’t shake off the feeling.
Feeling miserable, she didn’t want Finn to dislike her. People who were insecure and weak tended to blame themselves first when things went wrong. If they couldn’t find faults in themselves, they believed they were the problem. Apologetically, she lowered her head and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Finn’s anger defused slightly upon hearing her apology. Kneeling down, he lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes, resembling the purity of a newborn deer.
Finn’s thoughts drifted to their past conversations and his admission of liking her. However, that kind of like wasn’t the usual kind; it was akin to keeping a pet for amusement and pleasure. Reflecting on it, Finn realized that Aoife fit that role perfectly. Aoife’s gratitude knew no bounds with the slightest bit of attention, but Finn couldn’t decipher her actions, despite his years of practice in reading people.
Aoife’s apology managed to soften Finn’s demeanor a little. “I’ve told you, your task is to refine yourself and excel in violin. Working at those lowly places – do you want to remain a dish server your whole life?” His words were sharp, questioning her ambition, yet Aoife had no retort. She may appear weak, but there was a stubbornness to her nature – a resignation that contradicted her vulnerability. “Mr. Snearl, I know you mean well, but I can’t let you support me for nothing. It’s like being kept.”
Impoverished but not lacking in ambition, she was determined not to be a leech. Despite Finn’s generosity – providing her with a comfortable living space, covering her violin lessons – Aoife couldn’t bring herself to rely wholly on his money. Finn had given her a card for living expenses, but she hadn’t spent a single cent from it. In fact, she worked outside to deposit what she earned into that account, aiming to repay him quickly.
Finn’s smile turned sardonic upon hearing her words. Despite the considerable sum he had spent on her, he couldn’t help but see her as a dependent. Did she truly believe there was any affection involved? Reflecting on his past admissions of liking her, it dawned on Finn that his affection was more materialistic than emotional. Aoife’s background did not prepare her for this kind of lifestyle, and she was conflicted between gratitude and pride.
Feeling a surge of guilt, Aoife looked up apologetically, “I’m sorry,” Finn’s gaze softened as he crouched down to her level, cupping her face. Helpless like a newborn deer, Aoife’s eyes mirrored her vulnerability, uncertain and clear, reflecting Finn’s image back at him.