An Ning's words made Luo Li blink. She asked, confused, "What do you mean? You mean you like the same things I do?"
In Luo Li's eyes, An Ning saw a frantic gaze, desperate for affirmation.
But she shook her head.
"The things I like are different from you, but I won't look at you any differently for it. Everyone has the right to like whatever they want."
"As for what I was talking about, this is what I mean."
An Ning placed a hand on the metal rail of the single bed. Before Luo Li's eyes, An Ning bent the rail with her bare hands, then straightened it back out again.
"Your hands... are so beautiful."
The "beautiful" that came from Luo Li's lips didn't mean the same thing it would from anyone else. An Ning had already figured that out, despite how little time they'd spent together.
She held up her own hand and nodded in agreement. "They certainly are beautiful."
Luo Li didn't bother hiding her interest in An Ning—a desire that felt unnervingly like wanting to dissect someone.
