Chapter 9: Tan Jiao 02 (3)
A few seconds after he called out, a repairman stood up. He was tall, almost blocking the light from the ceiling. Dressed in a simple tank top and a pair of jeans, he had a tight body that still had proportionate muscles that glowed slightly red because of the sweat and hard work. You could almost imagine the contours of his abs from his narrow waist. Stains covered his unsophisticated jeans, yet he seemed rustic and unrestrained in them.
He seemed to have a physique that results in a feeling of having one's personal space being violated, making me feel as though something had touched my face.
As such, after only a glance, I moved my sights away. Vaguely, I had the impression that his facial features were proper and attractive. After a second or two, as though the corner of my eyes had legs of their own, I took another glance at his back.
He passed by in front of me.
His slightly long bangs covered his forehead, and he had his face turned the other way, so I could not take a good look at his face. He did not greet me, acting as though I, the owner of the car, was not here. He crouched down and used his finger to wipe away the dirt, revealing the scratch underneath. There were calluses on his long-fingered hand, on his fingertips, and the area between his thumb and index finger. His rough hands that belonged to a repairman seemed somewhat sexy to me for some reason.
He stood up and put on his gloves. My height did not even reach his shoulders. I had wanted to poke his back with my finger, yet I could not do it for some reason. So, I asked, “Can it be fixed?”
“Sure.” His voice was deep and hoarse, with a hint of cigarette scent.
“How much will it be?” I asked.
“You decide.”