"Sis, I'm back."
Noah Miller's clear voice pulled Evelyn Miller's attention back. She looked up to see him changing his shoes in the entryway. He had wrapped the scarf around his hand, breathing hard, his whole body steaming with heat and sweat covering his face.
"Why are you sweating so much?"
"It's physical work—what do you expect?" Noah stepped inside in his slippers, sweat still rolling down his face. He looked messy and exhausted, exactly like he used to after running around wildly outside as a kid.
"I shouldn't have let you go out. You're covered in sweat now." Evelyn pulled out a few tissues and gently wiped his cheeks and neck.
Noah didn't mind at all. He grabbed chopsticks and started eating straight from the dishes on the table, chewing as he said proudly, "I made eighty dollars this morning."
"I'll give you eight hundred if you stay right here this afternoon."
"Sis, I'm not a kid anymore, taking money from family."
"Doesn't matter. You're not going out this afternoon. It's too cold—you'll catch a cold."
"Got it." Noah swallowed the hot piece of meat and turned to smile at her, looking silly and innocent.
After wiping the sweat from Noah's face, Evelyn went to the bathroom, dampened a towel, wrung it out, and brought it back. She ordered, "Take off your jacket."
"Huh? No need."
"Be good. Let me wipe you down."
Noah reluctantly peeled off his jacket, left in just a thin undershirt that made him shiver from the cold. Luckily the towel was warm, and it felt good against his skin.
The soft fabric rubbed across his back, cleaning away the sticky sweat. His slender, fair frame carried a sun-warmed glow. Evelyn traced the lines of his skin with her fingertips, saliva gathering in her mouth.
"Sis?" Feeling the cool touch, Noah instinctively turned and called out.
"Nate... You've grown up."
"I'm twenty now, of course."
"Mm, grown up and well-raised. Ready for your sister to eat you up."
"My meat is tough and not tasty at all. It's nowhere near as good as this stir-fried radish and pork you made." He picked up a strip of meat and brought it close to her mouth. "Sis, try it."
Evelyn opened her mouth and ate it, smiling at him faintly.
After she finished wiping him down, she rinsed the towel, hung it back in the bathroom, and sat at the dining table again.
Once lunch was finished and the dishes washed, they returned to the bedroom. Evelyn slipped off her clean white cotton thermal socks and stretched her feet straight out to the edge of the bed. "The tape measure is in the leftmost drawer of the desk cabinet, Nate. Measure it yourself."
Noah took the tape measure from the drawer and sat on the edge of the bed. Evelyn's feet were stretched right in front of him, but he didn't know where to begin.
"What's wrong?" Evelyn looked at him in confusion.
"Sis... Can I touch them?"
"Do you still need to ask? I already took my socks off."
The last time he had touched Evelyn's ankles was back in middle school when he helped wash her feet.
Now, with his mature understanding of the differences between men and women and all the unspoken implications that came with it, Noah felt completely at a loss.
Evelyn's feet were beautiful—slender, fair, with faintly visible blue veins beneath the delicate skin. Her toes were soft and flawless, like the finest jade.
For a moment he almost understood why some people were into girls' feet...
Noah carefully lifted Evelyn's foot and placed the end of the tape measure at her heel, running it along the top until it reached her toes.
"Got the measurement?" Evelyn watched him with an amused smile.
"Yeah... size six."
"Nate."
"Hm?" Noah looked up, cheeks slightly flushed, avoiding her eyes.
"Help warm my feet, Nate. They're so cold." She shifted closer, pressing them against his lower abdomen.
"Sis... Do I really have to?"
"If Nate doesn't want to, it's fine. The blanket can warm them just as well."
"I don't mind." Noah pulled his jacket over to cover her chilly feet.
She rested them on his upper thighs, her heels brushing lightly against him, but she acted as if she didn't notice, continuing to speak to him gently. "Have you ever touched Lila Vale's feet, Nate?"
"I don't think so. Guys generally don't touch girls' feet."
"That's true, generally not." Evelyn's smile deepened in her eyes. Her snow-white, slender legs gradually bent, then stepped onto his thighs.
In a daze, Noah felt relieved she was wearing fleece-lined leggings today instead of a short skirt.
"You know, Nate, a girl's feet aren't something you touch casually. If you do, it means you have to marry her."
She pinched his face, her smile growing even more teasing. "Your sister is already unmarriageable. Nate has to take responsibility."
"Even without making up stories like that, I'd only choose you anyway."
"That's true too. Your sister won't let anyone steal you away again."
He fell silent, unsure how to respond.
Evelyn's feet, wrapped in his clothes, were slowly warming. His body heat transferred from the soles upward, and even though the air was cold, he stayed warm.
She glanced down at his left hand, which had nowhere to go, took it, and brought it close so his palm pressed against her cheek. She looked up, studying his eyes. "So, Nate, now that you know your sister's shoe size, what do you plan to do with it?"
"Just..." He still wanted to surprise her, so he gave a lame excuse. "I was curious. Your feet are so pretty, Sis."
"Then aren't you curious about your sister's other measurements? Why don't you measure those for me too?"
"No, no need." His eyes dodged away, his voice growing softer. "Sis, stop teasing me."
"Does Nate really not want to know? Your sister's measurements haven't been taken in a long time. Or is it... that other parts of your sister aren't pretty enough?"
Noah's Adam's apple bobbed. He gripped the tape measure tighter, a shy flush spreading from his neck to his ears.
After a long pause, as if gathering courage, "You look good everywhere, Sis. If you want me to measure... I can..."
"Mm, thank you, Nate."
Evelyn pulled her feet back, stood up, and turned her back to him. She brushed her long, silky black hair forward over her front. "Start from the top, Nate. Do you know how to measure bust size?"
"I do."
Noah placed one end of the tape measure against her back, brought the other end around her full, proud breasts, and joined it at the back.
"Got it?"
"Yeah..." Noah wasn't sure about women's bust sizes and stared blankly at the number.
Then he slid the tape measure slightly lower, wrapping it around her slender waist, and noted the second number.
Further down, he suddenly let go. The tape measure slipped from his hand. "Sis... For the last one, hips... maybe we don't need to measure that?"