117: 37.
Vague Distance 117: 37.
Vague Distance The Lady before him had teardrops coursing down like jewels, seemingly hurt by Fisher’s actions, and drops of blood also trickled from her fingers, staining the floor of Fisher’s house.
“Renie, what’s wrong with you?
You’ve locked the room, oh, don’t quarrel, isn’t there anything that can’t be settled calmly?”
Martha, outside the door, heard the noises from within and tried to open the door, but found it locked.
Instead of continuing to attempt to open it, she simply knocked on it and spoke in an advising tone.
“I’m fine…”
Renie wiped her eyes.
Fisher approached and grasped her injured left hand.
She instinctively pulled away, but Fisher firmly caught her again.
“Don’t move, let bandage it first.”
“Let go of …”
Renie, not looking at him at all, grabbed his hand with her right hand and struggled, but her physical strength was not sufficient to break free.
Thus, she was dragged by Fisher to the sofa.
Beside the sofa, there was a bookshelf with a dical kit on it, left over from Fisher’s previous biological dissections.
Not much was left inside, but there was still so gauze.
I’ll replace it with other dications for her later.
“Martha, we’re fine, she’s injured, and I’ll go downstairs to grab so dicine soon.”
“Oh, that’s good, you really should be more careful, you nearly scared my old heart to a stop.
I’ll go find where the dical kit is, it’s been so long since I used it, I need to check.”
Outside, Martha’s footsteps faded away.
Fisher clutched Renie’s fair hand, the cut was on her palm and quite large.
Fisher’s eyes flickered montarily, but his hands swiftly started to tend to her wound.
Renie was definitely throwing a tantrum, not only tightly closing her fingers but also regularly trying to pull her hand back.
She neither looked at Fisher nor spoke.
But how could Fisher let her have her way?
He forcefully held her wrist keeping her from pulling away, cleaned the wound, and then stood up to take the dical kit Martha handed him.
Facing Martha’s sowhat worried gaze, Fisher suddenly regretted questioning Renie so harshly, especially since he hadn’t expected such a strong reaction from her.
“She’s crying, you should really talk to her properly, my child.
I knew that you two not getting married would cause trouble eventually.”
“…I will talk to her properly, go rest now.”
With a bitter smile, Fisher sent Martha, who looked quite worried, away and then gently closed the door, returning to the room with the dical kit.
When he returned, he saw that Renie hadn’t virtually flown away; she simply sat on the sofa, staring at the scenery outside, pointedly ignoring Fisher, obviously still angry.
As Fisher approached with the dicine, she turned her head in another direction, clearly avoiding any interaction with him.
Fisher didn’t break the tense atmosphere; he just sat in front of her and forcefully took her hand to apply the dication.
She didn’t want to deal with Fisher, but still shuddered from the pain when the dicine touched her wound, and Fisher even heard a faint whimper from her.
“Does it hurt?”
“….”
Renie remained silent.
Fisher looked up at her, only seeing from her beautiful profile that her lovely eyes were still slightly red and her purple pupils had tear drops, making her usually radiant face appear vulnerable and tear-streaked, which aroused a protective desire in him—an urge to cheer her up, unwilling even to see her slightly displeased.
Fisher could no longer determine whether Renie’s current state was truly genuine or just a playful act.
In fact, he didn’t really care much about her real feelings.
Did Fisher trust what Renie said then?
Fisher believed her halfway.
He still thought Renie might well be the Undead Witch.
It could be Renie’s terrible nature, knowing she was the Undead Witch but refusing to tell Fisher, enjoying the process of teasing and playing with him, all her interactions with Fisher were cruel performances.
Or maybe Renie truly didn’t know she was the Undead Witch, even if in fact she was.
How could one prove to be Undead?
Perhaps by trying to kill Renie to see if she could reincarnate or resurrect?
Fisher would absolutely not undertake such a thod, unable to gamble with Renie’s life, despite her character being quite problematic.
So, no matter the possibility, Fisher couldn’t extract the real answer from Renie unless one day he had concrete evidence.
Then again, wasn’t his goal in searching for the Undead Witch to keep her by his side, hoping to find a way to alter the foretold outco?
If Renie really was the one, then whether he knew she was the Undead Witch or not didn’t change the outco.
The only question was, how did Fisher truly view Renie in his eyes?
Fisher found it difficult to answer the question.
After he had treated Renie’s wounds and cleaned the room, the room truly fell silent.
Seeing that she had no intention of speaking, Fisher picked up a Magic Book and sat at his desk, opening the window that had just been closed.
The night outside was quiet, and Fisher didn’t see the usual purple larks anywhere.
He wondered if they too had hidden sowhere to weep because of Renie’s sorrow.
Fisher slowly read through the book while Renie sat on the sofa hugging her knees, refusing to speak.
The atmosphere between them remained silent until nearly bedti.
Renie suddenly moved to wash up outside.
Fisher watched her silhouette; after she finished, he went to wash up and, by the ti he returned, she had taken bedding from the closet, laid it on the sofa, and lay there with her back to him, her black hair spread out.
Interestingly, when she was here, she always slept in Fisher’s bed.
Now that they were not on speaking terms, she had vacated Fisher’s bed.
Fisher silently smiled, turned off the room’s light, and then went to his own bed.
Renie had slept here before, and Fisher had said he would clean it after she left, but it seed he had forgotten to do so.
Maybe it was because he now shared the room with her, but Fisher’s nostrils were filled with her pleasant fragrance.
“Renie.”
In the quiet darkness, Fisher suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.
“….”
But there seed to be no signal received on the sofa, no response at all.
Fisher assud she had heard him and continued,
“Do you rember the first ti we t?
You lied to that you were the daughter of a reclusive mage called Schwali, promising to show Schwali’s magic if I gave you a dinner; then you led up the mountain and ran away, wasting a lot of my ti.”
“Later, when you knew I was looking for a Witch, you lied that you were human; when I was searching for the Undead Witch, you lied about knowing the whereabouts of the Undead Witch; when we crossed the Kado Border and my magic ran low, you lied about knowing magic.”
“To be honest, for anyone else, anyone other than you, I would never have so much patience, tolerating your lies over and over again.”
“But I gradually realized, you are like a hedgehog, using countless lies and teasing to hide your true feelings; I slowly moved from the initial anger of being deceived to a calm acceptance of it.”
“I have given all my patience for deception to you; sotis when we are apart for a long ti, I actually miss your signature teasing…
because I deeply trust you, firmly believing that the heart hiding behind your lies is not really as bad as it seems.”
“Yet ironically, on so matters, I still hope to hear an answer true to your heart from you, whether about the Undead Witch or the words you just said to about staying by my side because you care….”
In the darkness, Renie’s fingers gently clenched the edge of the blanket, and Fisher just stared at the ceiling.
Before he could speak the next sentence, he saw Renie silently rising from the sofa.
The bedroom had no moonlight; Fisher could only see her figure approaching his bed.
Without saying a word, her expression unreadable, Renie imperiously pulled away Fisher’s blanket and lay down beside him.
She nudged Fisher backward, making room for herself, and then stopped moving.
Within the narrow confines of the blanket, she turned her back to him, her black hair replete with her enticing scent, and slightly curled her body, her pale neck as luminous as moonlight peeking out from her hair.
Suddenly, Fisher wanted to kiss her soft body, but he did not.
He looked at Renie, who lay silent beside him, and after so ti had passed in the pitch black, her voice, calm and soft, said,
“What I said just now…
it’s true.”
Amid the blurred scent, the truth of her words was uncertain as Fisher could not see her expression at the mont.
“…I’m sorry.”
It was unclear whether the apology was for doubting whether she was the Undead Witch or for doubting her words of caring.
After that apology, she stopped talking, her posture unmoving.
This was their first ti, not teasing but seriously and intimately close, even more reserved than before—perhaps the proximity made it so, as Fisher could even sense her slightly quickened heartbeat.
Uncharacteristically free from desires, Fisher still reached out to embrace her side-lying body, but accidentally touched her bandaged left hand on the bed, causing her to reflexively withdraw her hand.
“It hurts…”
She said simply.
“….”
After her succinct response, they did not communicate any further, just maintaining their simple and close position, and the night passed just like that.
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