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Half a Note at Midnight

The night was as thick as velvet, and the neon lights outside cast ambiguous shadows in Erin's room. She was leaning on the sofa, her silk nightgown sliding over her knees, revealing a bit of skin under the moonlight. On the table, a dim yellow lamp illuminated a notebook with a black cover, beside it was a glass of red wine, with her lip print still lingering on the rim.

This notebook is not an ordinary diary. Erin calls it "half a note" because she never finishes a story—she likes to leave half blank, letting imagination fill in those dangerous details. Tonight, her pen dances lightly on the paper, as if probing a forbidden boundary.

She wrote:

*"In the dim corner of the bar, his eyes were like a cheetah, locking onto my every move. I held my glass, pretending not to see, but with each step closer, the wooden scent of his perfume was like a spell, making me forget how to refuse. He said softly, 'Tell me, what are you thinking?' I smiled, leaned close to his ear, my voice as light as a feather: 'Guess right, and I'll give you a secret.'"*

Eileen paused her pen, a smile curling at the corners of her lips. She bit her lower lip, feeling her heart racing a bit out of control. This wasn't her story, at least she told herself it wasn't. But every time she picked up the pen, those images seemed to slip out from the deepest part of her heart, carrying warmth and a hint of dangerously sweet.

The phone lit up, and a message popped up on the screen from her friend Noah: "Still writing that 'embarrassing' notebook of yours? 😈 What did you write this time, dare to send me a line?" Erin raised an eyebrow and lightly tapped the screen: "Want to peek at my secrets? First tell me, who was that person in your dream last night?～😘"

She got up, barefoot on the wooden floor, and walked to the window. The night view of the city was like a huge canvas, waiting for her to splash more stories onto it. She picked up her glass and took a sip, the slight sweetness of the wine spreading on her tongue. She murmured to herself, "If someone really read my note, would they... not dare to finish it?"

The notebook is still spread out on the table, half a note exuding temptation under the light. Erin knows she won't finish it tonight. She never finishes. Because the most alluring stories are always hidden in the half that remains unspoken.

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😘 #午夜笔记 # Guess what was written?