But wasn’t life just a series of small things? Crushing someone’s feelings did not always require a catastrophic event. Sometimes, it was just the accumulation of little straws.
When Aurelia came to her senses, Leslie had already finished washing the dishes and walked
“Are you planning to go like this?” He wiped his hands and asked.
Aurelia lowered her head to look at her work uniform and quickly stood up.
“Wait a moment, I’ll go change.”
She rushed back to her room and took out a ginger–yellow dress from her closet. This dress had been a gift from her mother, and she treasured it, rarely wearing it. Today, she had no idea why she thought of it.
When she thought about changing her clothes, the first thing that came to mind was this dress. Her mother had given it to her, saying it would look beautiful on her fair skin.
In fact, it was true; she would draw a lot of attention wearing it.
But why did she suddenly think of it? Was it because of Leslie?
Soon, Aurelia shook her head to dismiss the thought that shouldn’t have crossed her mind. It was probably because her mother was having surgery tomorrow that she thought of the dress.
After changing into the dress, she tied her hair into a bun. It was hot lately, and this hairstyle felt more refreshing.
She walked out of her room and adjusted her dress.
“Mr. Synder, I’m ready.”
Upon hearing this, Leslie, who was sitting on the couch, casually lifted his gaze. His eyes couldn’t help but linger for a moment.
This was the first time he saw Aurelia in anything other than her work uniform. It wasn’t an exceptionally fancy outfit; it was a style many young girls liked to wear.
It was only a round–neck long dress, but it somehow looked dazzling on her.
Her already fair skin appeared even more radiant against the ginger–yellow fabric. The round neckline emphasized her delicate collarbones, while the dress’s length revealed the slimmest part of her calves.
She looked playful and cute, with a simple bun and a few stray strands of hair falling gracefully.
How old was she, really?
People would believe she was in her thirties when she wore her work uniform. But now, in this outfit, she looked like a college freshman.
Sensing Leslie’s gaze, Aurelia asked cautiously, “What’s wrong? Is it not nice? I can change back if you’d like. I don’t have many casual clothes…”
Leslie interrupted, “This is fine. There’s no need to change.”
She should throw away those ugly, old–fashioned work uniforms that made her look older than she was.
He didn’t mention it out of consideration for her pride. He realized he was being overly meddlesome–when did he become so concerned about what other people wore?
Leslie furrowed his brows and headed toward the entrance.
Aurelia took her sneakers from the closet, ready to put them on, and Leslie’s brow nearly creased into one.
“You don’t have any other shoes?” A yellow dress paired with black sneakers was a combination that even he could not understand.
“Sneakers are convenient.” Aurelia clearly didn’t catch his point.
Leslie pursed his lips and regretted being too nosy. Why did he care so much?
Aurelia didn’t seem to mind. “Let’s go.”
the two of them went to a supermarket close to the apartment. It was Aurelia’s first time at this supermarket.
Surprisingly, they had free samples near the entrance. The staff were generous, slicing a big piece of sausage for tasting.
Unlike the supermarkets she had been to before, where the samples were just thin slices. They would also aggressively try to make you buy something, as if not buying was taking advantage.
But here, it was different. There was no forceful sales pitch, and people queued up in an orderly fashion.
Aurelia looked at the freshly grilled sausage, feeling tempted. However, Leslie was still standing next to her. Would he think she was being cheap if she just helped herself?
But it really did look delicious. She couldn’t help but lick her lips and then glanced at the man beside her.
“Mr. Synder, would you like some?”
Leslie was speechless.
Leslie glanced at her, her gaze filled with anticipation, practically wearing an expression that screamed, “I want some“. This demeanor was far from a white–collar worker’s competent and professional look.