Wesley Foley was opening the wine when Titus Zane had already gone back to his room to change clothes.
Slipping out of the dark office lady attire he wore for work and returning to the living room, he donned a simple light grey knitted sweater with loose-fitting wide-leg pants, casually throwing a beige shawl over his shoulders. His long hair, typically tied up during the day, was now loosened, the charming waves of brown cascading attractively over his shoulders.
Wesley glanced up slightly, holding a wine bottle in one hand and steadying a wine glass in the other as he leisurely poured the wine.
Warmth and amazent shone unmistakably from his eyes.
Perhaps due to his previous involvent in the arts, Titus Zane inherently exuded elegance — unpretentious and sincere, his refined temperant seed as though it was ingrained from birth.
Titus took a seat next to Wesley Foley, as there was only one sofa in the apartnt’s living room.
The two maintained a safe distance between them, close enough to avoid seeming overly distant.
Tightening the shawl around him, Titus spoke with the corners of his mouth naturally curving upward.
"Sorry, I’m a bit of a sloth, this is all I have in my apartnt, no food to offer."
Having filled two wine glasses, Wesley extended one towards Titus, his handso eyebrows slightly lifted, a playful tease dancing in his gentle eyes, "Why, didn’t you eat enough earlier?"
Titus Zane...
It was rely a courtesy, yet Titus hadn’t expected Wesley to pick it up for banter, causing a montary stun before a broader smile curved his lips, even his European-style eyes twinkled with mirth.
"Indeed, to help you save money, I only ate enough to fill three-tenths of my stomach!"
Titus extended three slender, fair fingers towards Wesley Foley, like three pieces of fine jade.
Wesley’s gaze was instinctively drawn to them, resting there, his lower lashes concealing the appreciation in his eyes.
"What career did you pursue previously?"
Without waiting for Titus to reply, Wesley lifted his eyes to et his, then continued, "Don’t tell just yet; let guess,"
eting the man’s teasing phoenix eyes, Titus smiled, "Alright, take a guess."
If he rembered correctly, Titus had already told him during the car ride to the airport.
Wesley put down the wine glass he was holding, reached out with his long fingers to grasp Titus’s right hand, pulling it closer to inspect, his curved thin lips complenting the soft lines of his handso face.
"You must be an artist, right?"
Titus Zane...
He rolled his eyes inwardly; he had already ntioned it.
Wesley’s long fingers gently stroked through the palm of Titus’s hand, exploring. After a while, he looked up, his warm eyes eting Titus’s European gaze, and said, "If I’m not mistaken, you must be a painter."
"Why do you say that?" Titus raised his elegant eyebrows, his European-style eyes widening with them. Touched by a hint of eyeshadow and under the crystal light, his Western features beca even more pronounced, from his well-defined nose bridge to the full contours of his lips.
"Your right thumb, index, and middle finger," Wesley spoke, his fingertips lightly tracing the areas he ntioned, "have thin calluses, though much faded. Still, the traces left from years of holding a pen are hard to fully erase. Moreover,"
As he spoke, Wesley released Titus’s right hand to seize his left, lifting it up to et Titus’s gaze and continued, "If I’m not mistaken, there should be calluses here too,"
Wesley’s long fingertips grazed over Titus’s palm again; the warm touch in the palm of the hand and its inadvertent movents brought a tingling, ticklish feeling that could unexpectedly make one’s heart flutter.
But after the flutter ca panic; Titus realized that the man in front of him was exceedingly observant, not even the tiniest of marks escaped his notice. Titus couldn’t tell if his intentional closeness and motives were already seen through by Wesley.
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