Without warning, Nora lost her balance and fell onto him, her chin knocking against his shoulder. The sudden impact left her montarily dazed with pain.
When she regained her senses, Pedro Langley’s hand stretched from behind her waist, resting securely on her shoulder to steady her.
"Looking to die?"
She shot him a fierce glare, her expression tense with anger, her tone hostile.
Pedro glanced down at her, surprisingly patient, his voice gentle, "Let help you back."
"I can walk."
"I just fear you’ll trip at my doorstep and block the way."
"..."
Nora was so exasperated by him that her brows twitched.
But, with sharp pains tearing through her abdon and feeling unwell all over, she really did not have the energy to argue with Pedro Langley.
She managed to walk two steps before stopping, pushing away the hand resting on her waist and retreating half a step.
Pedro was taken aback by her action. As he noticed her body wobble, he turned his head and saw her leaning back against the wall, sliding down to squat against it, one hand on her abdon, her pale face lowered and buried in her knees, her other arm holding her knees tightly, her fingers clenched into a fist.
She curled herself into a ball; even though her expression was unseen, every movent she made exuded pain and weakness.
Sensing sothing was amiss, Pedro tossed the stack of books aside, took steps forward, and bent over to grab her arm.
As he touched her, he was brushed off.
"Don’t touch ."
Nora’s voice was trembling with cold air, gritting her teeth, sounding assertive but clearly defiant.
"..."
Not knowing her current condition, Pedro lacked certainty and truly dared not touch her rashly.
Half a minute passed.
Feeling Pedro standing in front of her all along, Nora exhaled a breath, furrowed her brow, slightly lifted her head, squinting at Pedro standing against the light, ready to make a phone call.
"What are you doing?" Nora’s voice was weak.
Glancing down at her, Pedro decisively replied, "Calling an ambulance."
Ambulance?
"Are you sick..." Nora snapped angrily, helpless, saying, "It’ll be fine after resting for a bit."
"..."
Pedro ignored her, placing the phone to his ear.
Seeing him not listen, Nora released the arm holding her and pointed at him, threatening through clenched teeth, "If the ambulance really cos, I guarantee you’ll be the first one carried onto it."
Her harsh words at this ti had no effect whatsoever.
The call connected.
"Hello, 120..."
Shit!
Nora abruptly got up, grabbed Pedro’s hand holding the phone, and, annoyed, said, "So dicine will do, there’s so at ho."
She was sweating cold all over from pain, her palms icy cold, but the force with which she gripped him was far from light.
Witnessing her reaction, Pedro refrained from arguing, moving the phone aside, staring at her for a few seconds.
He skeptically asked, "Really?"
"Yeah." Nora really did not feel like talking more, "Hold ."
After a brief pause, Pedro hung up the phone, tucked it away, then leaned down to scoop her up in his arms.
...
In front of the door.
Pedro said, "Password."
Without deliberately avoiding him, Nora freed a hand to punch in the password.
Watching her action, Pedro ntally ran through the numbers once.
Her birthday...
Such a trusting heart, not afraid others might figure out her password.
Taking advantage of the dim light streaming in from outside, Pedro set Nora down on the living room sofa and then switched on the lights one by one.
"Where’s the dicine?"
Nora stuffed a pillow into her lap, lifted her eyes slightly, said, "Study room, middle drawer of the desk."
She pointed towards the direction of the study room.
She bought a four-bedroom, two-living room house, transforming the closet in the master bedroom into a small study, usually for drawing comics, and also reserved a separate room as a closet. The remaining two rooms were a side bedroom and a study.
Pushing open the study room door, Pedro turned on the light; the ’ssy’ scene greeted his eyes, causing him to pause at the doorway.
It was not dirty, but ssy.
The study was divided into two sections, the left side empty, covered with carpeting, books casually placed about, so open, so closed, probably left halfway through reading. The right side held a bookshelf and desk, the tabletop covered with drawings, not tidied at all, weighed down by a few books, the floor strewn with crumpled drawings, likely discarded.
Additionally, the walls were plastered with written scripts, a closer look revealing several familiar signatures, whether genuine or not was unknown.
Yet nas like Charlotte Mason and Fátima... whose identities remain a mystery.
The quality of the scripts was also hard to describe.
Without closely examining, Pedro found the dicine — common pain relievers — from the drawer in accordance with Nora’s instructions.
Having collected the dicine, and fetched a cup of water from the kitchen, Pedro returned to the living room, handing it to Nora.
"Does it work?" Pedro expressed skepticism.
A capsule able to restore soone writhing painfully as if nothing happened?
He had never experienced such pain, didn’t understand.
"Yeah."
After enduring pain for a while, her spirit improved, Nora tossed the dicine into her mouth, downing the cup of water.
Pedro tentatively accepted her word, taking the cup back, asking, "Have you eaten?"
"...No."
Being reminded by Pedro, Nora finally recalled the matter.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Yangchun noodles." Indeed hungry, Nora did not hesitate, asking straight, "Is Loxley here?"
"No."
Earlier, when Nora left, Pedro originally had plans at night, so he let Butler Loxley and Jack Carter head back first.
"Oh," Slowly, Nora freed a hand and reached into her jacket to fetch her phone, "Did you eat, order so takeout."
As she took out her phone, it was promptly snatched away by Pedro.
Glancing at her empty hand, Nora furrowed her brow lightly.
Setting the phone on the coffee table, Pedro casually said, "I’ll make it for you."
"You can—"
Her words halted, Nora forcefully swallowed back ’Are you crazy,’ and instead asked, "Can it be eaten?"
"..."
Pedro did not reply, his face clouded as he headed to the kitchen.
Nora stared at her phone for a few seconds, eventually leaned back in repose on the sofa, unmoving.
Nevermind, give him so credit...
*
Pedro spent two minutes in the kitchen.
The fridge was turned upside down; besides a few junk foods, there was — a drawer full of ice cream.
His expression, already unpleasant, darkened completely upon seeing the diverse assortnt of ice cream.
Pedro coldly lugged out the drawer holding the ice cream and marched into the living room.
"Year after year, eating ice cream in winter, can’t you change this bad habit?" Pedro scolded, frowning.
Nora carelessly replied, not taking his words seriously, "Proves I am faithful."
Faithful?
Originally intending to head straight outside to toss the ice cream, Pedro’s steps paused upon hearing the word.
"Bang—"
The plastic drawer holding the ice cream was thrown onto the coffee table.
The phone was even jolted out of place.
Are you freaking out?
Nora’s anger surged montarily, lifting her gaze to et Pedro’s sullen and furious eyes.
The next second, Pedro’s voice lashed out with wrapped anger —
"Nora, touch your heart and say you are faithful once more."
"..."
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