Genevieve’s finger moving across Armand’s chest tickled him. He grabbed her hand and looked down at her, noticing that her eyes were bright, seemingly contented. Armand chuckled. “Are you satisfied?”
he asked in a deep voice. Genevieve looked at Armand with a quirked eyebrow as though he asked a ridiculous question. When it was time to pay, Genevieve tipped the tattoo artist an additional five hundred. The said artist was ecstatic.
The tattoo artist personally sent them off and reminded Genevieve that she could come and find him whenever she wanted to get a tattoo, promising that she would definitely be satisfied with it. When Genevieve and Armand finally returned to the hotel, it was already one in the morning.
It was dark and quiet outside. Genevieve, however, was not sleepy at all. She went to the bathroom to do her skincare. Once she was done, she walked out and climbed onto the bed. Genevieve fell into Armand’s embrace and rested her head on his arm. She lay flat on the bed so that it was easy for him to read what she was typing on her phone.
She queried: How did you and Marilyn meet? “Why do you love to ask questions like this?” Moreover, Armand had started to realize that after every time she asked, she would overthink and end up getting into a small fit. Rubbing her ears gently, the man mumbled, “Let’s sleep.”
Genevieve suddenly turned around to face him before writing: Not talking about it means that you’re still thinking about the past. She looked at him with doubt in her eyes. Armand stared at her, speechless. “I met her at the hospital,” he finally answered in a low voice. Genevieve: Why was it at a hospital?
The woman blinked her eyes curiously. Then she typed out another question: Marilyn was probably already pretty well-known in the music industry when you two met, right? Did you happen to recognize her at the hospital and got together after finding an opportunity to talk to her?
“No.” Armand did not want to talk about the past, but he was afraid that if he did not, Genevieve might bother him about it the entire night, and she might even start overthinking. Therefore, while playing with Genevieve’s long, black hair, he calmly replied, “Back then, I had sustained an eye injury that forced me to stay in the hospital.
Marilyn was staying in the ward next to mine. During that time, I didn’t know that she was talented in music because back then… She wasn’t that good at playing the violin.” Huh? When Genevieve heard that Armand’s eye had been injured, she was suddenly reminded of something.
A long time ago, she was admitted to the hospital because of tonsillitis. There was an older boy staying in the ward next to hers. He had thick layers of gauze taped around his eyes as though they were severely injured. However, Genevieve did not believe in such a coincidence, so she brushed it off.
She continued to type on her phone: You must not know how to appreciate talent, then. Even I heard of the few classical music pieces that Marilyn performed when she first entered the music industry. Everyone praised that her playing was heavenly. Although Genevieve did not take a liking to Marilyn, she had to admit that the latter was indeed incredibly musically talented.
Marilyn was hailed as a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy in the music industry. With her in the industry, no one dared to claim themselves to be number one. Upon reading that, Armand released a chuckle. “Although I never listened to any classical music back then, I was still able to tell if someone’s skills were great or not.
At that time, she was playing like a rookie who just started learning. It was only after that I found out she had been admitted to the hospital because of a hand injury.” It was because Marilyn’s wrist had been injured that she did not dare to use so much strength in playing the violin, which led to her playing out of tune.
When Marilyn was practicing in the hospital, other people probably said that her playing was unpleasant to hear. However, at that time, Armand had thought that it sounded heavenly. The melody was quick and a little bit out of tune, just like a burst of spring water that washed away every bit of tiredness and confusion that he had been feeling.
When Armand was in the hospital, he would go out onto the balcony every morning to hear her play the violin next door. It had seemed like in order to practice, Marilyn always patiently played the same song over and over again. Armand would listen to her quietly. Until now, he still liked that song a lot.
Sometimes, he would notice that her playing was off. Armand would realize that Marilyn was getting frustrated, and he would comfort her.
However, she would never reply and instead continue to play the violin. After that, however, it sounded better. Since their rooms were near to each other, their balconies were basically stuck together. Marilyn would sometimes sit on the balcony and eat there when she was tired of practicing. She would also share her food with Armand.
There were snacks like sweet mangoes, crackers, macarons, and fruit gummies. Aren’t these snacks that someone around the age of seven would have? She’s already a teenager. Why does she still like this so much? was what Armand thought when he opened the gummies’ packaging.
