Almost as soon as she leaned closer, the man on the sofa suddenly opened his eyes. Thea Lynch’s hand trembled with fright, "Third brother, go upstairs and rest."
There are many empty rooms at Grandma’s house. When she and her uncle hadn’t gone abroad, the house was a bit lively. Now, only the two elders and one aunt live here.
The man had his eyes half-closed, like he had been paused, staring at her unblinkingly. His gaze was fiery, making Thea Lynch’s cheeks warm up and her mind uneasy.
Seeing him unmoved, Thea thought he didn’t hear her, so she bent down a little more and softly repeated, "Third brother, it’s too late now, it takes more than an hour to return to Coronet. Grandma said you should stay tonight, let help you to your room to rest."
Her voice was much gentler than usual, just like those days when she slowly regained her speech, not deliberate but tenderly sweet, soft against one’s heart.
After speaking, she reached out and grabbed his arm, using a bit of force. But the man beneath her remained motionless.
Feeling that he was being a bit intentional, Thea raised her eyes, playfully pouting, "Get up."
The two stared at each other for a few seconds, and Thea couldn’t tell if he was pretending, so she could only summon so patience, coaxing him as she supported him.
Two or three minutes later, Thea forcefully shook off his hand, "Ian!"
Upon hearing his na, the man finally moved, lifting his eyelashes and staring at her with a pair of smiling eyes, taking all of her into his gaze. Thea was montarily stunned.
This smile was all too familiar to her.
Ian Preston was originally not a man of many words, and such heartfelt smiles were rare. The most morable occasion was when she slowly pronounced his na along with him.
That ti, he looked at her and smiled just the sa, his affectionate eyes half-closed, bright like stars, with only her in them, giving the illusion of looking at his beloved.
Even now, Thea couldn’t resist the power of his smile. Her heart pounded fiercely, her long-numbed limbs seed to be injected with fresh blood, shaking uncontrollably from the heartbeat.
Just like before, a girl’s thoughts grew wildly like weeds in the barren sumr night. Right in front of her was a wildfire ready to spread, clearly dangerous, yet she wanted to get closer...
The hand hanging to one side was gently hooked into his palm by his warm fingers, the delicate and boneless little hand being repeatedly caressed, as if playing with a rare treasure, his fingertips leaving his warmth on her knuckles and the back of her hand.
The skin he touched itched subtly, Thea sank into his deep pool-like eyes, giving herself over completely. The finger he was playing with curled slightly, softly grasping his hand.
At the mont, she couldn’t tell if she wanted to hold his hand back or stop sothing.
He still sensed her response, his caressing motion halted, tilting his head slightly, looking at her with so confusion.
Her heart raced wildly, and Thea’s breath began to falter with him looking at her like that.
Grandma and Grandpa were in the kitchen brewing the sobering soup while arguing. Hearing the noise, she gripped Ian’s hand tightly.
Differing from the careful touch earlier, she held his hand solidly, delivering her hot, moist palm temperature over.
The man’s long lashes trembled violently, he who usually shows no emotion seed bewildered and lifted his head.
Just as she looked at him again, Thea’s face was calm, gripping his hand she naturally tried to pull him up, "It’s ti to go upstairs. If you don’t get up, I’ll just leave you be."
These words were like a basin of cold water, directly extinguishing the fire that had just ignited.
When Ian stood up, his figure wavered, Thea hurriedly held onto his back, "Lean on ."
"Mm." The man didn’t stand on ceremony, his tall silhouette pressing down, unloading much of his strength onto this slender sapling.
Thea furrowed her brows, supporting him as they walked upstairs.
Fortunately, this ti he was quite cooperative, though walking slowly, it wasn’t as difficult as imagined.
Grandma’s house stairs are quite long.
Thea feared stumbling, instructing him as they walked. Already so close, with his foot lifting to the stair’s motion, his head moved nearly touching her cheek. Close to being able to clearly hear his sowhat chaotic breath and the warm alcohol breath spraying onto her side face and neck.
In these few minutes up the stairs, the blush on Thea’s cheeks had spread to the neck and the roots of her ears, more tornting than before.
Ian lowered his head casually sweeping over, entering his view at once was her tender skin softly blushing.
Especially those earlobes red enough to drip blood, making one want to bite on them, repeatedly rubbing.
Finally managing to bring him into the guest room, Thea helped him sit by the bed, letting out a relieved sigh.
She inserted one hand into her waist, scrutinizing him. "You wait a minute, I’ll go down and get you the sobering soup."
The aunt at ho, having finished dinner, returned busy with housework, and it was too late to trouble Grandpa and Grandma to serve Ian, this unfortunate task fell to her.
"Thea."
Almost just turning away, Ian suddenly called to her.
His voice soaked in alcohol rebuttal, slightly hoarse with magnetism, stirring blood to boil. Like the cup of iced orange soda she drank tonight, bubbling cool, rising little bubbles, entering with a slight bitterness, the exploding bubbles made her throat itch, both sour and sweet.
Turning back impulsively, Thea looked at him expressionlessly. "Why call ?"
Ian was still smiling, his hand wearing the Agarwood Bracelet gently patting beside him, "Sit with for a while."
"..."
With this stalemate for two minutes, Thea sat by the bed, apart by two fists’ distance.
Once seated, she regretted it, staring blankly at the window to the side.
It was late, inside the room was quiet. Outside the window, the bright moon climbed the treetop, its shadow swaying. The old pagoda tree in the yard rustled in the evening wind. In Coronet and Westre, barely any stars were visible, looking up, the night sky was dark, oppressive.
"Are you happy?"
"What?" The person beside her suddenly spoke, Thea paused, turning her head.
"Are you happy abroad?"
"Why ask this?"
"Are you happy?" He was particularly persistent with this question, repeating until getting an answer. After a while, he laughed in frustration, "Leaving , Thea must be happy these years, right."
At this mont, Thea finally confird Ian was truly drunk.
When sober he would never be like this, wouldn’t be of this attitude, wouldn’t ask such questions, nor use such sticky eyes to gaze at her, calling her Thea.
She lifted her head without thinking, perfunctorily responding, "Yes, happy, definitely happy."
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