Finally, she was mine.
Not just her body, but her heart, too. Her adoration for me sparkled in her eyes. As faint as it seemed, I knew it was inextinguishable.
My chest swelled with satisfaction.
This level of emotion was rare for me. In fact, I always considered myself unnatural because I was always emotionally indifferent and uninterested. Every one of my childhood tutors expected me to kill myself or the people around me. They were certain that I was some kind of sociopath. A freak.
But they were wrong. I had no interest in destroying society.
Who cares about the grass under my feet or the buildings lining the roads?
To me, the world was like an amusement park where I could do anything I wanted. Going to Harvard was as, easy as climbing on a merry-go-round. The world was nothing more than a wh*re with her legs wide open for me.
How could anyone expect me to respect a b*tch like that?
But Olive was different.
Our encounter was just nothing more than an accident, but that led to her becoming my little secret. She’d stolen my heart.
When did I get so interested?
Maybe it was when we met…
No, it wasn’t love at first sight. I just couldn’t help myself. Olive was a beautiful woman with high cheekbones and fiery red hair, but she wasn’t the only beauty I’d ever seen. I’ve met many others-cute, s*xy, blonde, toxic-and I could have any I wanted. For the longest time, I always slept next to a different woman, and when I woke up, I realized I was lying next to a stranger.
But Olive… I was obsessed with her long before I slept with her. Long before I even talked to her.
With those emerald green eyes, she reminded me of my precious Mrs. Dalloway.
Mrs. Dalloway was a snow-white cat I’d met at my
grandfather’s grave in the cemetery. I tried to pet her pearly fur, but she slipped away, jumped up a tree, and looked down at me lazily.
She rejected me.
Every day for the next week, I brought food to visit her at my grandfather’s tombstone. Around that time, I finished the book “Mrs. Dalloway,” which I named her after. The white cat reminded me of the lady in Woolf’s novel, a collection of stories shrouded in mystery.
That entire time, she ate my food, yet refused my touch.
And I insisted on visiting her every day for the next month.
Those green eyes still looked warily at me. It was like she
1841
could see through to my decaying soul beneath my surface.
I finally realized that there were many things in this world that even I couldn’t have.
Like Mrs. Dalloway.
Like Olive Woods.
I made that realization during a c*cktail party. Jake and I had gotten bored of the subpar champagne, and at that point, we were chatting about the women on the dance floor. In this place of hypocrisy and lies, the only tangible things were the breasts and thighs of a woman.
“I bet your type is the chick in the green dress. D*mn, her t*ts are nice.”
“Why?” I followed Jake’s pointed finger and looked over to a woman dancing in a short dark green dress. She was s*xy for sure, and she definitely knew how to flaunt it. Her breasts and thighs were practically on full display, but something seemed to be missing…
“Oh, come on. She is your type, isn’t she? I thought you liked redheads. Let me guess, you’re probably attracted to Nicole Kidman too, huh? G*d, she was incredible in Moulin Rouge.”
I was lost in thought as I stared at the woman in green. She would’ve looked better if she had green eyes. Green eyes like her dress. Green eyes like Olive’s…
“Hey, watch it!” Jake’s disgruntled voice snapped me back to reality, and I noticed that I’d spilled champagne on his suit.
“Sorry, man,” I apologized absentmindedly. “I’ll pay for it.”
“Pff- I don’t want your money. You wanna compensate me, you let me have the chick in the green dress.”
“Go for it.”
I didn’t take any of those women home with me that night.
Or the week after, for that matter.
Jake teased me about my dry spell. “I wouldn’t mind letting you in on a thr*esome,” he offered. “Seriously, she’s great in bed.”
“F*ck off. Seeing you naked would ruin it.”
But after I turned down all of his invites for the whole month, Jake began to wonder if something was wrong with me.
So I told him that I only had one woman on my mind.
Not just her body, but her heart, too. Her adoration for me sparkled in her eyes. As faint as it seemed, I knew it was inextinguishable.
My chest swelled with satisfaction.
This level of emotion was rare for me. In fact, I always considered myself unnatural because I was always emotionally indifferent and uninterested. Every one of my childhood tutors expected me to kill myself or the people around me. They were certain that I was some kind of sociopath. A freak.
But they were wrong. I had no interest in destroying society.
Who cares about the grass under my feet or the buildings lining the roads?
To me, the world was like an amusement park where I could do anything I wanted. Going to Harvard was as, easy as climbing on a merry-go-round. The world was nothing more than a wh*re with her legs wide open for me.
How could anyone expect me to respect a b*tch like that?
But Olive was different.
Our encounter was just nothing more than an accident, but that led to her becoming my little secret. She’d stolen my heart.
When did I get so interested?
Maybe it was when we met…
No, it wasn’t love at first sight. I just couldn’t help myself. Olive was a beautiful woman with high cheekbones and fiery red hair, but she wasn’t the only beauty I’d ever seen. I’ve met many others-cute, s*xy, blonde, toxic-and I could have any I wanted. For the longest time, I always slept next to a different woman, and when I woke up, I realized I was lying next to a stranger.
But Olive… I was obsessed with her long before I slept with her. Long before I even talked to her.
With those emerald green eyes, she reminded me of my precious Mrs. Dalloway.
Mrs. Dalloway was a snow-white cat I’d met at my
grandfather’s grave in the cemetery. I tried to pet her pearly fur, but she slipped away, jumped up a tree, and looked down at me lazily.
She rejected me.
Every day for the next week, I brought food to visit her at my grandfather’s tombstone. Around that time, I finished the book “Mrs. Dalloway,” which I named her after. The white cat reminded me of the lady in Woolf’s novel, a collection of stories shrouded in mystery.
That entire time, she ate my food, yet refused my touch.
And I insisted on visiting her every day for the next month.
Those green eyes still looked warily at me. It was like she
1841
could see through to my decaying soul beneath my surface.
I finally realized that there were many things in this world that even I couldn’t have.
Like Mrs. Dalloway.
Like Olive Woods.
I made that realization during a c*cktail party. Jake and I had gotten bored of the subpar champagne, and at that point, we were chatting about the women on the dance floor. In this place of hypocrisy and lies, the only tangible things were the breasts and thighs of a woman.
“I bet your type is the chick in the green dress. D*mn, her t*ts are nice.”
“Why?” I followed Jake’s pointed finger and looked over to a woman dancing in a short dark green dress. She was s*xy for sure, and she definitely knew how to flaunt it. Her breasts and thighs were practically on full display, but something seemed to be missing…
“Oh, come on. She is your type, isn’t she? I thought you liked redheads. Let me guess, you’re probably attracted to Nicole Kidman too, huh? G*d, she was incredible in Moulin Rouge.”
I was lost in thought as I stared at the woman in green. She would’ve looked better if she had green eyes. Green eyes like her dress. Green eyes like Olive’s…
“Hey, watch it!” Jake’s disgruntled voice snapped me back to reality, and I noticed that I’d spilled champagne on his suit.
“Sorry, man,” I apologized absentmindedly. “I’ll pay for it.”
“Pff- I don’t want your money. You wanna compensate me, you let me have the chick in the green dress.”
“Go for it.”
I didn’t take any of those women home with me that night.
Or the week after, for that matter.
Jake teased me about my dry spell. “I wouldn’t mind letting you in on a thr*esome,” he offered. “Seriously, she’s great in bed.”
“F*ck off. Seeing you naked would ruin it.”
But after I turned down all of his invites for the whole month, Jake began to wonder if something was wrong with me.
So I told him that I only had one woman on my mind.
This is exclusive content from Dramanovels.com. Please visit Dramanovels.com to support the author and the translation team!