’Happy my ass.’
The cold, familiar, chanical voice sounded. Joanna Kennedy frowned, then smiled. ’How can a system use foul language? Tsk, tsk, 166, you’ll be a bad influence on children, you know.’
’Hmph.’ 166 sneered.
At the sa ti, the kitten turned its head to the side. Joanna Kennedy thought nothing of it, assuming the little thing was just sleepy. She stood up and stopped teasing it.
She was too excited to sleep, only drifting off in a daze after one in the morning.
In the darkness, the bedroom door was pushed open. She rolled over, changing position in her sleep. She was a restless sleeper, and more than half of the comforter had been kicked onto the floor.
Her pale yellow nightdress was bunched up around her waist. Moonlight stread in from the window, casting a gentle glow on her fair, delicate skin and giving it the lustrous sheen of fine white jade.
She was sound asleep. Her long eyelashes, the elegant bridge of her nose, her rosy lips, and her ssy hair splayed across the white pillow—all of it was enchanting and beautiful...
The man stood by the bed, his gaze sweeping down over the scene before him, finally landing on the girl’s sleeping face.
He bent down slightly. Half of his face was hidden in shadow, the other half exposed to the moonlight. His handso features were somber, his eyes deep and unreadable.
His large, well-defined hand moved without hesitation, gently pulling down the girl’s nightdress. His movents were slow, his palm practically grazing her skin as it slid all the way down.
In the quiet room, the man’s breathing suddenly grew hot and heavy. As if suppressing sothing, he stopped, pulled his hand back, and picked up the comforter, slowly covering the girl with it.
RING RING RING! The alarm blared. Joanna Kennedy rubbed her eyes, grabbed the phone beside her, and turned it off.
As she got up, she suddenly felt a slight pain at her waist. She looked down and saw a small red patch on her waist and leg.
Her skin was so fair that it often left a red mark at the slightest touch. She didn’t know if she had bumped into sothing or had been bitten, so she thought nothing of it.
After quickly washing up and changing, Joanna Kennedy went downstairs. The first thing she did was check on the kitten. It was drinking goat’s milk prepared by the housekeeper, its little mouth rimd with foam. It was impossibly cute.
Her hands itching to pet it, she reached out and gently tapped the kitten’s head. The kitten ignored her and kept on eating.
After breakfast, Joanna Kennedy wrapped the kitten in a small blanket and sat on the sofa, eagerly waiting for Simon Lockwood.
Simon Lockwood glanced at her, put down the work email he was halfway through writing, and said flatly, "Bring a mask."
Joanna Kennedy was now sowhat famous. After her variety show aired, she had gained a lot of fans. Coupled with her own striking looks, she was easily recognizable.
Joanna Kennedy obediently grabbed a mask but didn’t put it on right away. She waited until they arrived at the "Pet Wellness Center" and put it on as she got out of the car.
She held the kitten the entire way, afraid of dropping it if she held it too lightly and afraid of making it uncomfortable if she held it too tightly. Her arms were getting sore.
Just as she was about to stretch her arms, the weight in them vanished. Simon Lockwood had parked the car and taken the kitten from her. He looked at her, still frozen in place, and asked, "Not coming?"
"Coming, coming!" Joanna Kennedy hurried to catch up.
She couldn’t help but sneak glances at Simon Lockwood from the corner of her eye. He had a high-bridged nose and a sharp jawline. With his eyelids slightly lowered, he gave off a cold and aloof, almost heartless, vibe.
The kitten rolled over in his arms, its paws sticking out. Simon Lockwood frowned and emotionlessly pushed the paws back in.
Joanna Kennedy couldn’t help but smile. For so reason, she found the scene incredibly harmonious.
The vet—a young woman—first redressed the kitten’s wound, then gave it a check-up.
"It’s nothing serious. The kitten is quite healthy, just a little malnourished. It’ll be fine after a period of proper care."
The little kitten owed nonstop while getting its shot. The sight was heart-wrenching. Joanna Kennedy was about to turn away, unable to watch, when a hand covered her eyes from behind.
"..."
Plunged into darkness, Joanna Kennedy blinked, stunned.
The vaccination only took a few seconds. When her vision cleared, Joanna Kennedy turned her head to look at Simon Lockwood.
Simon Lockwood wasn’t looking at her, his expression impassive.
Just then, the vet spoke up. "Don’t forget to co back in twenty days for the second vaccine."
Joanna Kennedy promised she would rember.
The vet listed a few more things to watch out for, and Joanna Kennedy noted them all down.
Simon Lockwood watched her from the corner of his eye. His hand, hanging by his side, clenched slightly, as if that was the only way to quell the itching in his palm.
The ride back was silent. Joanna Kennedy tried several tis to start a conversation but couldn’t think of anything to say.
Seeing that they were almost ho, Joanna Kennedy grew anxious. Her brain short-circuited, and she blurted out dryly, "Simon Lockwood, do you have bugs at your house?"
"?"
"...I think I got bitten yesterday," Joanna Kennedy said, forcing herself to go on. She even started to lift the hem of her short-sleeved shirt to show him.
It happened to be a red light. Simon Lockwood grabbed her hand sharply, stopping her.
Joanna Kennedy looked at him, confused.
Simon Lockwood: "...There are no bugs."
"Oh. Then maybe it wasn’t a bug bite."
Simon Lockwood stared at her with an extrely complicated expression before slowly letting go of her hand.
Just when Joanna Kennedy thought the matter was over, he suddenly asked, "Does it hurt?"
"It doesn’t hurt..." Joanna Kennedy bit her lip, her voice soft. "It’s just a little red..."
It sounded like she was pouting.
Simon Lockwood massaged his temples, feeling ntally exhausted for the first ti. "Put so ointnt on it when we get back."
"Mhm..."
A phone rang in the car. Simon Lockwood took his out, and in her peripheral vision, Joanna Kennedy saw the caller ID: a contact nad "Bishop."
Simon Lockwood answered, and a gentle, pleasant female voice ca through the phone.
"Mr. Lockwood, I was wondering if you’re free tonight? I’d like to discuss the collaboration regarding the land in the suburbs with you in person..."
Having a al to discuss a collaboration was a perfectly normal business practice, but listening to this Miss Bishop’s tone, Joanna Kennedy felt a strange sense of discomfort.
A woman knows another woman best. Joanna Kennedy could tell just how soft and suggestive Miss Bishop was making her voice.
Simon Lockwood remained expressionless, his reply concise. "Alright."
...
Joanna Kennedy’s eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly as she absently stroked the kitten.
On the other end, the woman’s voice took on a cheerful tone as she started to say sothing inconsequential, trying to close the distance between them.
Simon Lockwood glanced at the girl’s profile in the rearview mirror. His fingers on the steering wheel twitched, and his tone cooled. "Is there anything else, Miss Bishop?"
The line went quiet for a few seconds before the woman said there wasn’t, and reluctantly hung up.
Silence returned to the car. Simon Lockwood stared straight ahead, not saying a word.
When they arrived at the villa, Joanna Kennedy got out of the car. Halfway to the door, she suddenly turned back to Simon Lockwood, who had just closed his door, and asked, "It’s almost evening. Aren’t you going?"
"..."
Simon Lockwood’s eyes darkened. "I’ll go after I change."
"Oh..."
’He even has to change for it? It must be really important to him...’
Joanna Kennedy felt a pang of bitterness, a sour feeling bubbling up in her chest.
She wanted to ask when he would be back but felt she didn’t have the right to. In the end, she just said laly, "Well, then... I hope you have a nice dinner."
User Comments
0 comments from readers