"Instead of questioning , you should be worrying about yourself," Sylvia said, crossing her arms. "Why did you jump into the apartnt when it caught fire? You could have lost your life."
Aiden raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that concern I hear from you, Sylvia? I’m surprised."
"It’s not concern," she dismissed his remark instantly. Glancing over her shoulder, she added, "I’m heading back. The reporters might want to interview a so-called ’brave citizen’ like you."
Aiden chuckled and fell into step beside her. "Then I better stick around to protect you if they co too close."
Sylvia shot him a sharp look. "Why? Don’t bother . Handle your own problems."
Aiden feigned a wounded expression. "Is that any way to treat an injured man? Everyone else was praising , except for you."
"They must have lost their minds then," Sylvia retorted. "They don’t know how much you enjoy showing off your so-called bravery."
As she rounded the corner, she abruptly halted behind an ambulance, causing Aiden to stop as well.
"What is it?" he asked, noticing her tense stance.
Sylvia let out an exasperated sigh. "The reporters are swarming the area. They will eventually catch you." She stepped ahead when Aiden held her hand.
"Don’t go," Aiden said, grabbing Sylvia’s wrist. She glanced at their hands before shooting him a glare, prompting him to let go imdiately.
"Why don’t you help out instead?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just tell the reporters I’ve gone sowhere else. It’s a small favor, surely you can do that much for , right?"
Sylvia wasn’t eager to help him, but she rembered how he had saved her cat that night. With a sigh, she relented. "Fine. But don’t ask for anything like this in the future."
"I won’t," Aiden promised.
With that, Sylvia strode toward the reporters, effortlessly misleading them about Aiden’s whereabouts. Since she had no solid excuse prepared, she simply claid he had been taken to the hospital. So reporters seed skeptical, but many rushed off in that direction, eager for their scoop.
Sylvia glanced back toward the ambulance, but to her surprise, both it and Aiden had disappeared. Shaking her head, she turned back and waited with the other residents for permission to return to her apartnt. An hour later, they were finally allowed back in.
As she pressed the password on the door lock, a voice startled her from behind.
"What?" she snapped, spinning around.
"Let stay at your place till the evening," Aiden requested. Before she could protest, he pulled the door open himself, stepped inside, and casually thanked her.
"Aiden!" Sylvia rushed in after him. "Get out! Go to your own apartnt and stop bothering !"
Aiden, now comfortably seated on her couch, removed his cap and leaned back. "A few reporters found out where I live," he explained.
Coco, her cat, stretched lazily on the couch before hopping onto Aiden’s lap, rubbing against him for attention. Aiden absentmindedly stroked her fur, much to Sylvia’s irritation.
"You should have gone sowhere else," she said, scowling as she scooped Coco into her arms. "Go to Roger’s place. Or Lucius’s."
"Roger’s not ho. It’s Sunday. He has a life, you know. And I didn’t want to disturb my boss," Aiden replied smoothly. "What’s wrong with a neighbor helping out another neighbor?"
Before Sylvia could retort, the doorbell rang. She stiffened and imdiately checked the security cara. Her expression darkened.
"They’re reporters," she muttered.
"Tell them you don’t know ," Aiden said quickly.
"Why don’t you give them a quick interview instead of pestering ?" she snapped, her patience wearing thin.
"I don’t want to be on cara. I have a phobia," Aiden replied shalessly. Then, looking at Coco still nestled in her arms, he added, "Don’t be heartless. Coco will curse you if you don’t help ."
The doorbell rang again. Sylvia exhaled sharply before pulling the door open. As expected, the reporters bombarded her with questions about Aiden’s whereabouts. With a perfectly neutral expression, she simply said, "I don’t know him."
Once she shut the door, she turned back toward the living room, her glare set on Aiden.
"In the evening, you are leaving my apartnt," she reminded him sternly.
"Of course," Aiden agreed, a smug smile playing on his lips.
Just then, he winced as pain shot through his injured forearm. Sylvia noticed but said nothing though she did roll her eyes.
"I’ll be in my bedroom. Don’t move from here," Sylvia instructed firmly.
"Okay," Aiden replied lazily, then glanced at her. "Can I watch TV?"
"Do whatever you want," she muttered before heading to her room.
Aiden shrugged and switched on the TV, flipping through channels until he settled on a random show. He stretched out on the couch, making himself comfortable as he let the background noise fill the room.
Hours passed, and as afternoon arrived, Sylvia’s stomach grumbled. She sighed, finally erging from her bedroom. As she descended the stairs, she paused at the sight of Aiden fast asleep on the couch, his chest rising and falling steadily. The television was still on, playing so mindless talk show.
Rolling her eyes, Sylvia walked over and switched it off, casting an annoyed glance in his direction.
"I don’t think the reporters are outside anymore," she murmured to herself.
Despite her irritation, she didn’t wake him up. Instead, she made her way to the kitchen, deciding to prepare a lunch al. If he would wake up when she finished, maybe she’d finally kick him out.
After setting the table in the kitchen, Sylvia decided to check on Aiden again. He was still asleep and looked as if he was in a deep slumber.
"Hey, wake up! Lunch is ready," she called out.
When he didn’t stir, she stepped closer and gave his arm a light shake. "Aiden, wake up!" she said, louder this ti.
Before she could react, his hand shot up, gripping her wrist tightly. In the next instant, he pulled her down, his other arm wrapping around her neck in a firm hold.
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