Hugo only felt his head spinning dizzily. He couldn't remember how much he had drunk last night, nor could he recall how he got home. He didn't even remember if he had come back with Joseph and the others or with Uma… Oh, Uma! Hugo seemed to recall a little something, but the memory quickly gave him a splitting headache.
"Damn it."
Hugo cursed under his breath, which reminded him of the months he had spent fighting withdrawal symptoms. In fact, for Hugo, he didn't have a psychological dependence on drugs; the withdrawal was purely physical resistance, which wasn't too difficult, so he managed to pull through with gritted teeth. But the feeling after today's hangover made Hugo think he might actually need professional help.
"How much did I even drink?" Hugo cursed in a low voice, but the sound startled him as soon as it came out—it was so hoarse and rough that it was scarier than the Big Bad Wolf's grandmother. Hugo couldn't help squinting his eyes and rubbing his throbbing temples.
Turning his head to look, he could confirm through the slit of his eyelids that this was indeed his own room, and there was no one else inside. Could it be that Joseph and Alex had carried him back? Hugo struggled painfully to prop himself up with both arms and sat up. Sure enough, there was nothing on the floor except his own clothes. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember if he had thrown up last night, but his blurred memories couldn't be pieced together at all.
"Whew... I think I need a glass of honey water." Hugo felt like ten giant drums were being beaten inside his head nonstop. He flung off the blanket that had turned into a crumpled pile of sauerkraut, sat on the edge of the bed, and hugged his head to rest for a bit. The warmth of his hands helped calm the turmoil in his head slightly. Then Hugo stood up, controlling his somewhat shaky body, and slowly walked toward the door.
After reaching the door, Hugo felt a bit better. He opened it and headed straight for the bathroom. Glancing into the dining room, he saw two people sitting there. He instinctively raised his hand to wave, then entered the bathroom. After relieving some of the alcohol in his system and splashing his face with water, his mind felt much clearer.
Coming out of the bathroom, Hugo was rubbing his temples while saying, "Charlize, can you make me a cup of honey water? My head hurts like hell. I don't even know how much I drank last night. How did I get back in the end? Was it Joseph..." Hugo looked up and saw the scene before him. His voice faltered, his steps stopped, and he even staggered a bit before regaining balance. The latter half of the sentence became a mumbled "...helped me?" But clearly, that question no longer mattered.
At the dining table sat Charlize and Uma, each on opposite ends. Charlize wore her usual pajamas, revealing her shoulder slightly, leaning casually against the table with a cup of coffee in hand. Uma sat opposite her, wearing a white dress shirt and nothing else on the bottom. The shirt was clearly oversized and obviously not hers—it was Hugo's. She also held a cup of coffee, crossed her long legs, and rested one alluringly on the table.
Because the dining table was very wide, it looked more like a negotiation table—aside from the marble surface. Charlize and Uma were like business rivals facing off on either side. The tension in the air was so thick it was hard to breathe.
Hugo had not expected to see such a scene. He didn't even remember Uma had come back with him—this was her second time staying over, and Hugo had no recollection of it. Uma was even wearing his shirt! At this moment, Hugo began to recall a few vague fragments—he and Uma had both lost control last night. As expected, alcohol easily made people impulsive.
"Of course!" / "No problem!" Charlize and Uma replied in unison, which brought Hugo back to his senses. He blinked, then realized they were answering his earlier request. But both of them...
At that moment, none of the three noticed that Alex's door had quietly opened a crack. Alex was hiding behind the gap, watching this free drama unfold. He had gotten up to use the bathroom earlier and had seen Uma, which had scared him into retreating back to his room—he hadn't been around the last time Uma stayed over, so this time was definitely a shock. Things were getting interesting.
Charlize looked at Uma and gave a faint smile as she said calmly, "This is my house. I know my way around better. I'll do it."
Uma also curved her lips into a beautiful arc. "It's just honey water. The kettle's already on the stove, and the honey should be in the cupboard. It's not difficult, is it?"
Uma and Charlize looked at each other, exchanging smiles while holding their ground. Hugo frowned as he watched—what exactly was going on? He didn't think they were fighting over him, because he and Charlize were just friends. But this scene couldn't be explained reasonably either.
Could this be what people call repelling like poles? Uma had invaded Charlize's private space, so Charlize was putting up her defenses? Hugo furrowed his brow, unable to comprehend. The world of women really wasn't easy to understand.
"A simple favor, that's all," Charlize replied with a smile, then stepped down from the chair, ready to handle it herself.
But who could have known that Uma also got up and quickly walked over to stop Charlize, "You already made the coffee just now. Thanks for that. Let me take care of the honey water." With that, she gave Charlize no chance to argue and went straight into the kitchen to start boiling water.
Uma stood on tiptoe to open the cabinet and, sure enough, spotted the honey right away and skillfully took it down.
Watching Uma's movements, Charlize turned back and glared at Hugo. Her eyes seemed like they could shoot out laser beams, and Hugo instantly felt like he had taken a stray bullet. He mouthed silently, "You organized it yourself!"
Charlize had an irreversibly compulsive disorder; she couldn't tolerate hidden messes. Every cabinet and drawer had to be neatly organized. Except for Hugo and Alex's rooms, all other public spaces were kept impeccably tidy by Charlize, including the bathroom—which had been quite a challenge for the two men. The kitchen was even more so: the honey, sugar, coffee, and other jars were all carefully sorted and arranged in one cabinet, making them very easy to find. Uma had probably seen Charlize making the coffee just now, so naturally, it wasn't hard for her to locate the honey.
Charlize immediately widened her eyes, her mouth forming each word distinctly, "It wasn't for her!"
Just then, Uma came back out, and Hugo and Charlize quickly resumed normal expressions. Uma walked over to Hugo with a smile and asked, "You drank way too much last night. It'd be weird if you weren't hungover. Come sit on the sofa and rest for a bit." Uma led Hugo to the sofa and gently pushed him down. That's when Hugo saw the Wonder Woman costume laid out on the sofa—no wonder he hadn't seen it in the room. But… why was it here? Had it been lying in the living room since last night?
After seating Hugo, Uma stood by his side and continued, "You must be hungry now. I'll go see if there's anything I can make for breakfast." With that, she quickly walked to the refrigerator. But after opening it, she found there wasn't much inside. Uma turned to Charlize again, "Sorry, is there really nothing here to make breakfast with?"
"Hugo usually doesn't eat breakfast, and neither does Alex," Charlize replied, her face once again wearing a polite smile, as if the person complaining to Hugo earlier wasn't her at all. Hugo, observing from the side, was amazed—this was the first time he had seen this side of Charlize.
As Hugo turned his head, he also saw Alex hiding at the door, enjoying the show. Hugo immediately widened his eyes at him, only for Alex to make a silly face back, leaving Hugo both amused and exasperated.
Uma didn't notice Hugo's small movements. Standing in place, she thought for a moment. "But Hugo is hungover today. A little breakfast would be good for him. Charlize, this is your home. You know it better. Could you please help find some breakfast ingredients?"
Charlize felt an overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. Who was the one who just said "it's not difficult" a moment ago? And now it's "this is your home"? Not even ten seconds had passed between the two statements. Charlize was sure—she and Uma just had clashing auras. There wasn't any particular reason, just a woman's intuition.
"Sorry." Charlize shrugged and gave an apologetic smile. "Other than toast, there's really not much that could be used for breakfast."
Uma stood there and thought for a moment. "Well then, toast will do." Then she began busying herself in the kitchen.
But it was obvious that Uma wasn't someone who cooked often. Even just making toast, the kitchen quickly became a mess—though just in terms of items being scattered around. Hugo could already sense Charlize was on the verge of snapping. Her obsessive-compulsive disorder was intense; he and Alex had taken a long time to get used to it. He could feel that the urge to tidy the kitchen was boiling inside Charlize. In fact, even if she returned to her room to avoid seeing it, that urge couldn't be suppressed. Hugo could imagine the torment Charlize was enduring.
Luckily, making toast wasn't complicated. Uma finished quickly and brought over the toast slices and honey water to the living room, sitting down beside Hugo. Hugo took the honey water, keeping his eyes straight ahead and sitting still.
While Uma chatted with Hugo, Charlize took the opportunity to rush back into the kitchen to start tidying up—otherwise, she might've exploded. Once everything was back in place, Hugo had almost finished his breakfast. Charlize thought about it and decided to return to her room—otherwise, who knew what kind of verbal clash might erupt between her and Uma. But just then, Uma's voice called out, causing Charlize's footsteps to stop, and the muscles on her back stiffened.
"Hugo, the premiere of A Few Good Men is next month. Would you be willing to invite me as your date?"
.....
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