Crystal sat blankly, her expression wooden, and after a while, her gaze fell on the tightly closed door, furrowing her brows, only feeling that the scene just now seed like an illusion.
Andrew has t an uncle, and coincidentally, it’s Camilo?
Ridiculous.
But she didn’t want to think too deeply about anything.
A sense of indescribable despair made even breathing faintly painful.
She fell back onto the bed, curling up, the blanket covering her, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, easing the unprovoked surge of low spirits.
Not knowing how much ti had passed.
She lifted her eyes and in her drowsiness saw the glass of water on the bedside cabinet, staring at it blankly.
After a long while, perhaps affected by the dicine, she finally closed her eyes and fell asleep.
*
In the living room.
As soon as Camilo ca out, Andrew ran over nearby.
"Uncle Camilo."
Upon hearing the voice, he lowered his eyelids slightly, seeing Andrew’s familiar brow and eye contour, faintly, the suppressed suspicion, once again took root and sprouted.
Stunned, the emotions in Camilo’s eyes beca sowhat complex. He softly advised, "If your mom’s condition doesn’t improve tomorrow, call an ambulance and take her to the hospital."
"Okay."
Andrew nodded.
Camilo curved his lips and said, "It’s late, you should get so sleep."
"Uncle Camilo."
Andrew looked up, his brows slightly furrowed, resembling the way he usually did when facing a problem.
About to speak but hesitated.
Suppressing so emotions, Camilo steadied his mindset, crouched down, and asked him, "Any questions?"
Pressing his lips together, Andrew looked a bit troubled, as if he couldn’t let go of his youthful pride, yet sothing was on his mind, his thoughts swaying back and forth.
Camilo quietly waited for him.
After a mont, Andrew finally made up his mind, asking, "Do you have friends?"
"Yes."
Surprised, Camilo recalled a bit, responding.
His expression brightened, and Andrew hurriedly asked, "So how did you make friends?"
Camilo imdiately understood, "Want to make friends in kindergarten?"
"...Mm."
Andrew nodded.
At dinner, the things Crystal said kept lingering in his mind.
—"Even if you don’t like the kids in kindergarten, think they’re immature, and can’t play together, you still have to try to integrate with them, you know? If you’re alone, mom will feel awful."
He wanted to make friends.
Even if it ant blending in with them.
He sought out Camilo... simply because Camilo seed "very good at it".
Last ti Camilo ca to the kindergarten, thoughtfully prepared small gifts for the kids, and many of them liked him.
Slightly surprised, Camilo smiled and asked gently, "It’s late, aren’t you going to sleep?"
Andrew shook his head.
"Not listening to mom?"
"..."
Andrew furrowed his brows, looking a bit conflicted.
Camilo sighed, "Alright, I’ll teach you a few tricks first."
"Great!"
Andrew’s eyes lit up.
*
Morning, the sky faintly lit.
The mobile alarm rang incessantly, Crystal struggled to find her phone and shut off the alarm.
Intending to continue sleeping.
But, three minutes later, Crystal suddenly opened her eyes, quickly turned over and sat up.
Her head felt swollen and heavy, her whole body light and weak, the sharp pain struck her brain the instant she got up, it took a while before it gradually eased.
With the back of her hand touching her forehead, the fever had subsided, should be nothing now.
Pulling off the blanket, Crystal got out of bed, found a knitted sweater from the wardrobe, put it on, and hurried out of the bedroom.
She washed up simply and then went to the kitchen.
Having prepared dough and at filling the night before, she found them from the fridge and directly started making stead buns and rolls.
Trying to keep the noise as light as possible.
Old fashioned buildings, with poor sound insulation, the kitchen was right next to the master bedroom; even the slightest noise could potentially wake Andrew.
That child was understanding, hearing her awake, he definitely wouldn’t sleep in.
Had to let him sleep a little longer.
...
Andrew indeed wasn’t woken up.
But soone else was.
At the kitchen door, Camilo saw Crystal busy inside.
Her hair casually tied at the back, a bit loose, two wisps of hair hanging by the ears. Outside the long white T-shirt she wore a beige knitted sweater, looking both holy and relaxed, effortlessly charming. The T-shirt’s hem reached just above her knees, revealing two slender and long legs, proportionately beautiful, with pink bunny-ear slippers on her feet.
With the kitchen light on, the cool white glow enveloped her, softly covering her in a pale halo, appearing gentle and serene.
His heart was lightly tugged.
He never believed love could last.
Upon hearing Pedro’s infatuation, he always thought Pedro was crazy, stubbornly hanging on to a single tree.
No one is irreplaceable.
Yet, having personally witnessed Nora’s uniqueness, Camilo could sowhat comprehend.
But—
Crystal wasn’t.
She’s beautiful, but not overwhelming like a star.
She’s talented, but not the most outstanding.
She’s lively and cheerful, with a good temper, loves being clingy in relationships, yet also loves to be capricious... like many girls, nothing special.
So even Camilo himself was bewildered, seeing Crystal at that mont, the instant allure and surprise, its origin unknown.
User Comments
0 comments from readers