I Woke Up And My Girlfriend Was Gone - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Night of the Butterfly

The guitar string vibrated for the final note, and the singer on the small stage finished her last song. No one truly cared about the background music; only a few scattered claps broke the silence.

No one noticed the ambiguous drama unfolding in that dimly lit, deserted corner.

Zuo Yin rose and pressed closer to the woman, her shadow looming over her. Without warning, her thin lips—still damp with wine—pressed firmly against the woman’s.

Softness met softness.

The girl’s lips were untouched, a flower yet to be plucked. Even if she looked cold on the outside, her petals were warm and tender. Whether it was natural instinct or raw talent, Zuo Yin braced her hands against the low back of the chair and lowered her body to deepen the kiss.

The woman’s eyes widened with pure shock.

She was trapped on the high stool, her slender back with nowhere to hide but against the arm Zuo Yin used to brace the chair. She looked like a cornered kitten pushed up a tree, tense and helpless.

“…Mmm.” Finally, finding a gap in Zuo Yin’s shallow breaths, the woman pushed against her shoulders and turned her face away. Her thin shoulders heaved as she gasped for air, her breaths panicked and disorganized.

Perhaps it was the hard liquor going to her head, but despite her shameless behavior, Zuo Yin let out a smirk. She stroked the woman’s back and whispered into her ear: “Sister, how did it taste?”

The woman kept her head turned away. The darkness deprived her of sight but magnified her touch. The girl’s cool fingers fell upon her shoulder blades—her “butterfly bones”—feeling unexpectedly comfortable.

Zuo Yin watched as the woman’s expression slowly relaxed, the tension in her frame uncoiling under her palm. A streak of the “bad seed” nature—the rebellious streak cultivated by her mother, Zuo Lan—sprouted in Zuo Yin’s heart.

“Well?” Zuo Yin teased, humming with a low nasal tone near her ear.

The warm, slow breaths from Zuo Yin’s lips fell across the woman’s ear and neck. The woman tilted her head slightly, the secrets hidden by alcohol churning in her heart. She looked up at the girl looming over her.

Because of the kiss, Zuo Yin’s face was extremely close. All the woman could see were those thin, translucent lips. Beneath the skin, they glowed with a natural cherry-pink, shimmering like a piece of fruit waiting to be harvested.

Zuo Yin saw a flicker of something unreadable in the woman’s eyes. Then, the woman’s brow relaxed, her defenses crumbling in the dark. A newfound tenderness seeped into her allure.

The woman raised her long, slender arms and hooked them around Zuo Yin’s neck. She pulled the girl down slightly and whispered her verdict: “Not that great.”

The same rebellious streak.

Zuo Yin’s desire to conquer was successfully ignited. She pulled the woman into her embrace and countered: “Is that so?”

Before the woman could reply, those faded lips pressed against hers again.

As their lips met, Zuo Yin brushed against the woman’s cheek and teased: “Sister, you have to open your mouth to kiss.”

Clearly, the woman was older, yet she didn’t seem to know the most basic technique.

The heat from Zuo Yin’s breath, magnified by the alcohol, tunneled into the woman’s ear, making her pale face flush a deep red. Leaning into Zuo Yin’s arms with embarrassment, she let a single sound escape her lips: “…Mmm.”

A perfect answer.

Zuo Yin smiled, her eyes dancing with amusement. She cupped the woman’s face and began a kiss much gentler than the previous messy one, prying open her teeth to invade this tender territory. In truth, Zuo Yin’s technique wasn’t great either, but perhaps the night was too ambiguous, granting them infinite permission to be clumsy.

They clung to each other, exploring, turning greed into tenderness as they sought the sweetness of the other. Gradually, the woman began to try and take control, and Zuo Yin surrendered the initiative, letting herself be enveloped in the woman’s softness. She felt as if she were falling through clouds, melting away.

Amidst the rising tension in the corner, the sound of men’s voices drifted closer, eventually stopping at a nearby booth. Zuo Yin frowned, her focus breaking. A man’s voice was too loud and boisterous, reminding her of Old Man Zhang the butcher back home. It was a complete mood-killer.

The woman sensed Zuo Yin’s distraction. Her hand, which had been wandering over Zuo Yin’s back, stopped in dissatisfaction. She pulled her lips back slightly and whispered two words into Zuo Yin’s ear: “Hotel?”

Obscure, yet glaringly obvious.

Zuo Yin knew she was being indulgent, but the alcohol-wrapped desire had long since hijacked her brain, snapping the strings of her reason. She nodded.

A beauty’s invitation—how could anyone say no?

…

A few lonely stars dotted the night sky. Below the hotel, the lights were still brilliant and the streets noisy, but inside the room, there was a different kind of madness.

Warm yellow light fell over the soft white bed. The woman still wore her black dress, but where the fabric failed to cover, her skin was as white as congealed fat, tinged with a delicate pink.

Zuo Yin hooked the thin shoulder strap of the dress and pulled gently. Long, straight black hair fell over the woman’s shoulders—a collision of dignified restraint and decadent temptation.

“You can still regret this,” the woman whispered, her eyes narrowed as she hovered over the person sinking into the mattress like a hunter.

Zuo Yin smirked and reached out to brush the woman’s hair back. Her cool fingers grazed the woman’s warm ear. “Just as long as Sister doesn’t regret it.”

She was the hunter.

Zuo Yin invaded that snowy white skin with scattered kisses, leaving marks that belonged only to her. Her fingertips moved through the long hair, clumsily comforting the tremors in the woman’s body. She used everything she knew to please the person before her.

But Zuo Yin was ultimately green. The woman couldn’t help but let out a sharp intake of breath. Zuo Yin paused, expecting a punishment, but instead received a tender kiss. The woman reached out and interlaced her jade-like fingers with Zuo Yin’s.

“Gentler,” she whispered patiently.

No one had ever made Zuo Yin feel such tenderness. The woman stroked Zuo Yin’s hand, enveloping her in a lingering embrace from the most hidden places, melting her piece by piece.

“…Mmm.” Zuo Yin gripped the thin “butterfly bones” on the woman’s back and exhaled a hot breath. The woman’s fingers ran through Zuo Yin’s short hair, the butterfly on her finger seemingly fluttering within the strands.

“Don’t hold back… don’t hold back…” the woman whispered.

Zuo Yin stared blankly at an unknown painting on the wall, lured and enticed by that gentle voice until she finally let go of her suppressed nerves. An undercurrent surged from the depths of the sea, the waves crashing against her, bringing pleasure and drowning her.

It allowed her to conquer, yet made her willing to surrender.

“Sister…” Zuo Yin brushed away the sweat-dampened hair from the woman’s face and stroked the half-butterfly on her finger, murmuring the name into her ear.

The woman collapsed exhaustedly into Zuo Yin’s arms, tilting her head to brush her lips against Zuo Yin’s. “…Mhm?”

Zuo Yin only smiled. She lifted the hand the woman was resting on and pulled her back down. The night was long, and the hands on the wall clock had only just met at the top. They were both willing to drown together in this tender sea of spring.

…

The Next Day

The afternoon sun brought a scorching heat into the messy bedroom. The girl’s pale, plain face was buried in a soft pillow, her thick, wild lashes resting like fans against her skin.

Alcohol makes one reckless; the two hadn’t fallen asleep until nearly dawn.

Zuo Yin was gently woken by the light from the window. Before she even opened her eyes, soreness flooded her body from every direction. she raised a heavy arm to rub her throbbing temples. A few tufts of hair stood up on her head, softening the “tough” edge of her face. She looked like any other young girl sleeping alone in a hotel.

“Good afternoon.”

Zuo Yin wanted to be a “qualified lover.” She reached out a lazy, considerate hand to greet the woman she had exhausted the night before.

And then…

There was no “then.”

The smile on Zuo Yin’s lips froze. Something unbelievable had happened.

The room was silent. Her hand met only empty space.

The woman was gone.