“Um,” I replied, pulling out a chair untouched by Liam and sitting down. Dinner was already set. A plate, fork, and knife were placed at my seat as well. Liam must have done all this himself. His remarkable dexterity remained unchanged even in his twenties.
Liam glanced at the newspaper, asking indifferently, “Newspaper?”
“Any one will do,” I responded, checking the date on the newspaper. It was May 1863. I had travelled back eight years from 1871. So, Liam’s current age was…
“Twenty-two.”
My goodness. He’s really young. I was a bit taken aback, stabbing a bean with my fork. Looking at his young face in photos had been fun, but seeing him move and eat in front of was unsettling. The reality of being in the past suddenly hit .
Liam, having silently finished his al, was now solving a crossword puzzle. Noticing my gaze, he raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
I asked cautiously, “You don’t eat broccoli?”
“…”
“Fussy eating is bad.”
Liam glared at before burying himself back in the puzzle. Resigned, I began clearing the dishes.
This was quite different from the scene at 13 Bailonz Street. Back there, Liam would chat incessantly after dinner. It made realise how different he was back then.
Or maybe… ‘Is he only like that with ?’
It was a plausible thought. Liam Moore was sharp with everyone. His brother described him as soone who viewed won as stone, but I believed he treated everyone like inanimate objects. I could now understand why his nickna was ‘Bastard.’
After a few more glances while tidying up, Liam sighed and said, “Stop staring.”
Quick to catch on. It’s scary.
“Thanks for the al.”
“…”
I hurriedly put the dishes in the sink and swiftly exited the kitchen, feeling his eyes boring into my back.
＊ ＊ ＊
When I woke up, I was still in 1863. It wasn’t despairing. I thought of this as a gateway, a path to the real Liam.
However, Dylan’s head was telling sothing else. I shouldn’t be wasting ti; I needed to prepare.
Dylan’s body naturally dressed and packed, heading toward the library. A new fact popped into my head: ‘Cambridge has final exams in May.’ It was already May. Dylan’s head reminded again: ‘I have to take the exams.’
This was bad. Dylan might rember what he learned, but I didn’t. Not only could I not recall the material, but even if I did, writing about it was another issue. I had never studied English law or its precedents!
The only laws I knew were from protesting Liam’s misdeeds at Scotland Yard. For example, obstruction of justice.
Dylan’s brain insisted, ‘Exam period.’
I wanted to scream at Dylan’s brain. Hey, you can’t let ruin your grades. Snap out of it. I’ll give you control or whatever you want.
‘Hang in there.’
What? I never thought I could resent soone I t yesterday, but Dylan Vermilton made it possible.
Dylan wanted to write his major exams proficiently. It was impossible. Even students who attended classes all year struggled with these exams. How could I get good grades?
Yet, I had no choice but to move as the body’s owner wished. So, I compromised by borrowing necessary books from the library, with Dylan’s faint consciousness correcting my hand when I picked the wrong ones.
As I piled the books, I suddenly heard a gasp. In the quiet library, such a sound was startling. I looked around to see who made it. A male student was staring at wide-eyed.
All eyes in the library turned to , accompanied by similar gasps.
Oh, right. People weren’t used to seeing Dylan like this. I quietly nodded and continued gathering books.
The stunned stares didn’t leave until I finished filling out the loan application.
“Sigh.”
Current Dylan had a straightened posture and a tidy haircut, which, while not as striking as Liam’s, gave a clean, decent impression. A smile would make him easily likeable.
The sunlight outside the library was warm in the late spring, a stark contrast to the students dragging themselves to the library. With the sun blinding my eyes, I lifted my head, feeling muddled.
“Vermilton.”
I opened my eyes.
Three steps down the stairs stood Liam Moore. He had his hands in his pockets, looking up at Dylan with a skewed expression.
I responded, “What’s up?”
“It would be wise to move.”
With that, Liam started walking away. He assud I would follow. Of course, I would… but he walked briskly with his long legs, forcing to run with my bursting bag in tow.
“Wait, Moore, slow down!”
He ignored . I planned to tell thirty-year-old Liam how self-centred and an he was. See if he cares.
Following Liam, I counted at least ten students who stared at in surprise. Liam Moore, however, showed no surprise or curiosity, not even glancing at , as if walking was all he knew.
“Hey, Moore!”
Out of breath, I shouted. Finally, Liam glanced back and stopped under a large tree. In the distance, there was a greenhouse-like glass building.
“Here.”
After all that walking, we stopped under a tree?
I dropped my heavy bag in annoyance, and Liam smirked.
“What are you?”
Straight to the point. His bluntness made shudder.
“What do you an? I’m Dylan Vermilton. Are you tired? Why are you talking nonsense?”
“No.”
Liam coldly cut off, folding his arms. Sunlight through the leaves illuminated his frowning face.
“Dylan Vermilton doesn’t talk back like this.”
Oh, Dylan. Where did it all go wrong?
I explained, “I didn’t avoid it. I just couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t.”
“Where did you learn to judge people so freely?”
Liam raised an eyebrow.
Oops, too provocative.
“See? You’re not Dylan Vermilton.”
Liam stepped closer, pointing at my clothes.
“He’s ambidextrous, primarily using his left hand. But you used your right. Your left hand seed clumsy. The direction you cut your bangs is different. Your tone, intonation, expression, and posture are all different. It’s obvious. Your claim isn’t credible.”
Now Liam had cornered against the tree, looking down with his cold grey eyes.
“I won’t ask twice. Who are you?”
I sighed. If I had known this would happen, I would have avoided eting Liam Moore.
But could I escape his suspicion? No. Once he started doubting, he’d dig until the truth ca out.
I shrugged, eting his eyes.
“Did Herschel teach you to threaten friends?”
“It’s not a threat, just an appropriate question. I have the insight to ask such things.”
“Fine. You’re insightful. Keep observing.”
I didn’t know why I was having a battle of wits with twenty-two-year-old Liam, but honestly, the situation was quite amusing.
When I suddenly started laughing, Liam looked at like I was crazy, which made it even funnier.
After a while, I stopped laughing, clutching my stomach.
“Sorry, Liam, but we’ve t before. You know .”
Probably.
Despite my explanation, Liam’s expression didn’t soften. His brows furrowed deeply.
“No, if we had, I’d rember your remarkable vocabulary.”
“Or maybe your mory’s bad?”
He squinted at , as if trying to understand where this lunatic ca from.
I bit my lip, then slowly spoke, looking him straight in the eye.
“I got lost again. I was looking for soone.”
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