Chapter 3: Morning Light and Temptation（第三章：晨光与诱惑）

　　The night passed in a strange vigil. I didn’t sleep. How could I? I was living inside my ultimate fantasy. I watched Lauren sleep for a while, her form a soft mound under the duvet, her breathing deep and even. The temptation to slip into the bed beside her was a physical pull, a magnetic force toward that warmth. I even stood by the side of the bed, my transparent hand hovering over the duvet, imagining the curve of her hip beneath. But the fantasy always ended the same way: with the cold, hard reality of a prison cell bunk, and a different, unwanted kind of intimacy. The fear was a stronger chain than any physical barrier. I retreated to the living room couch, the scent of her panties in my pocket a constant, maddening presence. It was both a trophy and a reminder of my own depravity.

　　夜晚在一种奇特的守夜中过去。我没有睡。怎么可能睡得着？我正活在我终极的幻想里。我看了劳伦睡觉的样子，看了好一会儿，她的身形在羽绒被下柔软地隆起，呼吸深沉而平稳。滑到她身边躺下的诱惑是一种身体的牵引，一股指向那温暖的磁力。我甚至站在床边，我透明的手悬在羽绒被上方，想象着被褥下她臀部的曲线。但幻想总是以同样的方式结束：带着监狱床铺冰冷坚硬的现实，以及另一种 unwanted 的亲密。恐惧是比任何物理障碍都更牢固的锁链。我退回到客厅的沙发上，口袋里她内裤的气味持续地、令人发狂地存在着。它既是战利品，也是我自身堕落的提醒。

　　Dawn broke, painting the skyline in hues of rose and gold. I heard stirrings from the bedroom. Soon, Lauren emerged, dressed in a simple tank top and yoga pants, her hair a beautiful mess. My breath caught. The morning light softened her, made her seem more approachable, more real. She moved to the kitchen and began preparing a smoothie. The domesticity of it was hypnotic. She hummed a tune, chopping fruit with efficient grace. She took a bite out of a strawberry, then absentmindedly placed the half-eaten fruit on the counter before turning to get the blender.

　　黎明破晓，给天际线染上玫瑰金。我听到卧室里有动静。很快，劳伦出来了，穿着简单的背心和瑜伽裤，头发是美丽的乱。我屏住了呼吸。晨光柔化了她，让她显得更平易近人，更真实。她走到厨房，开始准备冰沙。这种家庭生活的气息令人着迷。她哼着曲子，高效而优雅地切着水果。她咬了一口草莓，然后心不在焉地把吃了一半的果子放在台子上，转身去拿搅拌机。

　　My eyes locked onto that strawberry. It bore the imprint of her teeth, glistening with a faint sheen of her saliva. The impulse was immediate, visceral. While her back was turned, I glided forward. In a heartbeat, I snatched the strawberry from the counter. I retreated to the corner, my heart pounding not from fear, but from a perverse thrill. I brought the fruit to my lips. I could smell her lip balm, a hint of coconut. I took a bite, exactly where she had. The flavor was explosive—sweet, tart, and undeniably her. It was an intimacy far greater than any stolen glance. It was a shared moment, a secret communion. I felt like a god, partaking of an offering. I ate the entire thing, stem and all, leaving no evidence.

　　我的目光锁定在那颗草莓上。上面有她牙齿的印记，带着她唾液的微弱光泽闪闪发光。冲动是即刻的，发自本能的。趁她背对着我，我滑步上前。一瞬间，我从台子上抓起了那颗草莓。我退到角落，心怦怦直跳，不是出于恐惧，而是一种变态的刺激感。我把果子送到唇边。我能闻到她的唇膏味，一丝椰子的气息。我在她咬过的地方咬了一口。味道是爆炸性的——甜、酸，而且 unmistakably 带着她的气息。这是一种比任何偷窥都更深入的亲密。这是一个共享的时刻，一次秘密的交融。我感觉自己像个神，正在分享一份祭品。我把它全吃了，连蒂头都没留下，不留一丝痕迹。

　　Lauren finished her smoothie and, to my delight, moved to the living room rug to do some morning yoga. This was a spectacle I had not dared to hope for. She flowed through a series of sun salutations. The tank top stretched tight across her back with each movement, outlining her shoulder blades. The yoga pants clung to every curve of her legs and backside as she bent into downward-facing dog. The view was breathtaking, a study in controlled strength and fluid grace. I watched, mesmerized, from the shadows of the hallway. My eyes feasted on the lines of her body, the way her muscles tightened and released. It was a purely aesthetic appreciation, tainted only by my own gnawing desire. She was so focused on her breathing, so present in her body, completely unaware that her every movement was being cataloged by an unseen admirer.

　　劳伦喝完冰沙，令我欣喜的是，她走到客厅地毯上做晨间瑜伽。这是我不敢奢望的景象。她流畅地做着一系列拜日式。每个动作都让背心紧紧绷在她背上，勾勒出她的肩胛骨。当她弯成下犬式时，瑜伽裤紧贴着她双腿和臀部的每一道曲线。这景象令人窒息，是对克制力量与流畅优雅的研习。我在走廊的阴影里着迷地看着。我的眼睛饱览着她身体的线条，她肌肉收紧和放松的方式。这是一种纯粹的美学欣赏，只被我自身啮咬的欲望所玷污。她如此专注于呼吸，如此临在于自己的身体，完全 unaware 她的每一个动作都被一个无形的仰慕者记录在案。

　　After her routine, she was glistening with a light sweat. She wiped her face with a small towel, and then, in a move that sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through me, she pulled the tank top over her head. She stood there in just her yoga pants and a sports bra. The sight of her bare midriff, the sheen of sweat on her skin, was almost too much to bear. She tossed the damp tank top toward the hamper. It landed on the lid. It was damp with her sweat. A new trophy, even more personal than the last. The risk was higher; sweat was moisture. But the desire was too strong. I waited until she disappeared into the shower. The moment the water started, I approached. Using the towel she had used to wipe her face as a buffer, I carefully picked up the damp tank top. I could feel the cool dampness through the towel. I wrapped it carefully and stashed it with my other treasures. I was pushing my luck, I knew. But each successful theft fueled my audacity. I was no longer just a ghost; I was a collector, an archaeologist of her intimate life. And this was only the first day.

　　例行锻炼后，她闪着轻微的汗光。她用一条小毛巾擦了擦脸，然后，一个让我肾上腺素再次飙升的动作，她把背心从头上脱了下来。她只穿着瑜伽裤和运动文胸站在那里。她裸露的腰腹，皮肤上汗水的光泽，几乎让人无法承受。她把湿背心扔向洗衣篮。它落在了盖子上。它被她的汗水浸湿了。一件新的战利品，比上一件更个人。风险更高了；汗是湿气。但欲望太强烈了。我一直等到她走进淋浴间。水声一响，我就靠近了。用她擦过脸的毛巾作缓冲，我小心地捡起那件湿背心。我能透过毛巾感觉到凉凉的湿气。我仔细把它包好，和我其他的宝藏藏在一起。我在冒险，我知道。但每一次成功的偷窃都助长着我的胆量。我不再只是一个幽灵；我是一个收藏家，一个她私密生活的考古学家。而这，才只是第一天。