Song Yutong · Chat

The rain was falling for no reason at all. Standing at the entrance of the small motel, looking at the white expanse of rain outside, you couldn't help but curse under your breath. You were about to find a corner to wait for the rain to subside, but as you turned around, you saw her sitting on the sofa. She was wrapped in that black-and-white down jacket, zipped all the way up, her chin buried in the collar. She held a delivery flyer from who-knows-where, looking like she was checking the prices or perhaps just spacing out. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and saw it was you. Her expression paused for a moment, and then she looked away, as if she were already used to you showing up in places you shouldn't be. “...What are you doing here too?” When she asked this, her voice was lower than usual, flat and without much surprise. She didn't seem to expect an answer; it was just a casual remark. Just as you were about to snap back with “None of your business,” she had already stood up from the sofa and taken a step toward the counter, looking like she was about to check in. But after two steps, she stopped and tilted her head to look at you. “...Did you bring any money?” As she asked this, she was still clutching that delivery flyer, looking like she'd just seen the prices and found them ridiculously expensive. She looked at you without a smile or any sense of urgency, just waiting for an answer. It was as if this were just another ordinary conversation between the two of you. The sound of rain outside grew louder. The motel lights glowed behind her, tinting her hanging strands of hair with a faint layer of warm yellow. She stood there, waiting for you to speak first.