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The cab driver was a sharp middle-aged white guy—at least he wasn't like those chatty Black drivers who'd rap your ears off whether you liked it or not, to the point passengers wanted to dive out of the moving vehicle.
This one stayed quiet.
Henry simply stroked Charlize's head gently, as if smoothing the fur on a skittish cat.
The only sound in the taxi was the girl's soft sobbing—gradually fading, eventually disappearing completely.
The cabin settled into silence, broken only by the engine's hum.
Since it was off-peak afternoon hours, the taxi reached the destination quickly.
Henry paid the fare plus extra, a silent thanks.
If not for that driver's tily reminder, the whole situation might've turned into a gunfight. Compared to that, today's resolution was practically a blessing.
He helped the puppet-like girl upstairs.
Henry was still debating what to do once he delivered her back to her fourth-floor room.
Just leaving her there felt irresponsible—who knew what a girl that terrified, alone in the apartnt, might do?
But staying… that carried implications.
Yet before they even reached the fourth floor, she stopped moving on the third landing—like she couldn't take another step.
Henry could easily lift her by force, but doing that might hurt her.
He was just about to ask what was wrong when—
She suddenly shoved him against the wall and kissed him.
---
Henry was genuinely stunned.
He had a hundred reasons to refuse, a thousand ways to counter, ten thousand techniques to dodge without leaving a trace.
Yet a perfectly ordinary Earth girl overwheld him completely.
This surge of reckless passion was sothing entirely new—not only in this life; even in his past life nothing had felt like this. The only vague comparison was the sensation of sucking escargot at a dinner table… which hardly counted.
Before he proclaid "Lick-dogs never get the House," he had personally lived the tragic life of licking and getting nothing.
No one becos wise without suffering losses.
Who understands romance without having been burnt?
He'd spent money and ti for his goddess in a past life—short of selling a kidney to buy her a phone.
Now, in a more open, bolder Arican culture, he had sohow remained abstinent—living the sa vegetarian lifestyle as before.
And today…
Today he had been reversed-pounced.
Well…
If Henry were honest, he hoped this mont could last forever.
But Charlize, breathless, finally let go—though she kept his hands pinned above his head against the wall.
Her eyes burned like wildfire.
Henry sighed helplessly.
"I hope this isn't your way of thanking —one kiss to settle the debt, and tomorrow you vanish. I'd be pretty disappointed."
"Pretty disappointed?" She frowned. "Don't you like ?"
"How could I not? Who does all this for soone they don't like?"
"Then stop talking." Her breath trembled.
"Take ."
---
How exactly the battle moved from the third-floor landing to Henry's room was… unspeakable, unwritable, indescribable.
But it did.
Eventually, Charlize clung to him like an octopus, asleep in his arms, as if terrified he'd vanish while she dread.
Henry held the pitiful, fragile girl in return. It wasn't the ti to sleep, yet he allowed himself to drift off anyway.
---
But of course, this sleep could not last.
A mischievous "little kitten" yanked off the blanket and jumped onto the bed to bounce like a trampoline.
Ah right—Henry had forgotten about that one.
Half asleep, he instinctively kicked, sending Katy the tiger tumbling off the bed.
Charlize, also awakened, blinked groggily—then saw the hazy outline of a tiger's head at the foot of the bed.
Katy opened her bloody maw and roared.
: It's feeding ti.
Charlize froze for three seconds…
then unleashed a shriek three octaves high—enough to blow the roof off.
The scream jolted Henry fully awake.
He wrapped his arms around her protectively, shielding her with his body—though he didn't really need to. Katy was already walking out of the room, tail swaying.
Her scream hadn't co from true terror—just instinct.
Seeing the tiger leave and feeling Henry's reassurance, her mind finally clicked back into place.
Looking up at him, Charlize asked slowly:
"Was that… a tiger?"
She suddenly recalled the landlord and roommates' complicated expressions whenever Henry was ntioned.
If they'd known their neighbor kept a tiger, simply being "awkward" about it was insanely restrained.
Still holding her, Henry said:
"That's Katy the tabby cat. My cute little kitty. Look—hi, Katy."
The tiger turned back—not with so enchanting mythical "three demure glances"…
but with another roar.
: Hungry.
Charlize's hearing was fine.
She knew the difference between a ow and a tiger roar.
She stared at Henry with an expression that said:
Are you kidding ?
Henry coughed awkwardly.
"It's feeding ti. I should go prepare her dinner—otherwise I'll beco her dinner. You can stay and eat here tonight.
And don't worry about Katy—she doesn't bite. I'll stop her."
Charlize was speechless.
She wanted to point out how many things were wrong with that single sentence.
Did this man hear himself?
Henry kissed her soft cheek, then got out of bed and dressed to make dinner.
Only now did Charlize slowly grasp where she was—not just soone else's house, not just after a wild afternoon—but facing her future.
Reality flooded in all at once.
But instead of panic or regret… she felt strangely calm.
Perhaps she had found soone reliable.
And if not?
Well, then she'd return to her family farm in South Africa and live out her days.
One way or another—she'd make peace with life.
She picked up her clothes, slipping them on piece by piece.
That afternoon's unfamiliar sensations sent heat rushing to her cheeks… but she quickly steadied herself.
Was it normal to escape one man only to throw herself into another's arms?
Was it too reckless?
She had no answers.
And she wasn't the type to agonize endlessly.
She only reflected enough to avoid repeating past mistakes.
But with Henry involving himself so directly in her dispute with John Crosby…
Charlize needed to understand what this man was thinking.
Only then could she decide her next step.
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