Subsequently, she didn't leave immediately, but instead picked up a coat Aunt Sarah had casually tossed on the sofa, skillfully shook it out, folded it, and placed it neatly on the armrest.
Aunt Sarah held the cup of warm water in her hands, freezing in place.
She looked at Alice's calm profile, and the layer of hedgehog-like wariness and hostility in her eyes cracked for a split second.
This niece, who in her impression had been pampered and only knew how to cry, seemed to have truly changed.
She had become someone she couldn't quite see through, and someone she couldn't find fault with.
"You're sensible, at least."
Aunt Sarah turned her head away and muttered, her tone still stiff, but the aggressive sharpness had dissipated quite a bit.
She tilted her head back and drank the water in one gulp, then waved her hand.
"I'm going to catch up on sleep, don't bother me unless necessary. If anyone comes to sell insurance or missionaries knock on the door, just tell them to get lost."
After saying this, she walked into the bedroom like a wandering soul, wobbling, and slammed the door shut.
The room returned to silence.
Alice didn't rush to do the laundry; she glanced at the tightly closed door and sighed softly.
In this house, everyone was struggling to survive; Aunt Sarah's meanness was merely a layer of protective coloring under the heavy pressure of life.
"Let's solve the breakfast problem first."
Alice turned and went out.
When she came out from the sixth floor and walked to the stairwell corner, the tempting aroma of toasted bread and fried bacon drifted into her nose.
The smell was drifting from the row house next door.
The two buildings were very close, and through the window, Alice could clearly see the kitchen on the second floor opposite.
A gray-haired, kind-faced old woman was busy in front of the stove.
"Peter, hurry up, if you don't get up, you'll be late." The old woman shouted towards the inner room, "The school bus will be here in ten minutes."
"Coming, Aunt Mei, don't worry, I'm looking for my glasses."
After a flurry of clattering noises, a boy rushed out of the inner room.
He was wearing a baggy plaid shirt, jeans washed to a pale white, and his hair was as messy as if it had just been blown up by a chicken coop.
Thick black-rimmed nearsighted glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, making him look both dull and awkward.
It was actually Peter Parker.
Alice stopped and looked through the window at this future superhero.
At this moment, he clearly hadn't been bitten by that fate-changing spider yet.
He looked thin and clumsy, scrambling in the kitchen to stuff textbooks into his backpack, nearly knocking over the milk on the table.
"Oh, sorry, Aunt Mei." Peter hurriedly steadied the cup, looking guilty.
"It's okay, be careful, child." Aunt Mei helplessly straightened his collar, "Don't let those big guys bully you again today, okay?"
"I'll try to avoid them." Peter's voice was very soft, full of insecurity.
Alice watched this scene, not with mockery, but with a hint of sympathy.
This was the Tobey Maguire version of Peter, the Peter Parker who was closest to an ordinary person, lived the most tiring life, and was the most real.
A minute later.
Alice walked out of the apartment building, and coincidentally, the door of the building next door was pushed open.
Peter Parker was carrying a heavy backpack; he looked preoccupied, head down, not even noticing someone in front of him.
"Hey, watch out."
Alice called out a reminder.
Peter was startled and looked up abruptly.
Behind the thick lenses, those brown eyes were full of panic.
When he saw clearly that standing in front of him was a blonde, blue-eyed girl.
Although she was wearing a gray T-shirt that was clearly a size too big and a pair of faded jeans, she still couldn't hide her natural beauty.
Well, these were old clothes that Aunt Sarah had dug out from the bottom of the wardrobe, probably from when she was young.
Although the style was old-fashioned, it had the advantage of sturdy fabric.
"Uh, hi, hi!"
Peter stammered nervously.
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