Chapter 647: Side Story Twenty-Four: Ink-Dot Plum Fragrance (22)
“What are you doing?” Like a frightened rabbit, Alia Smith pressed her left hand against William Lane’s shoulder, trying to push him away. “You said you wouldn’t do anything.”
William Lane gently gripped her right wrist, preventing her right arm from moving.
“I also said that I would inform you in advance if I wanted to do sothing.” William Lane pinched her face, “I’m informing you now.”
“I don’t agree.”
“I said I would inform you, I didn’t say I needed your agreent.” William Lane laughed.
Alia Smith: “…you, how can you be so shaless.”
“Teach you a lesson.” William Lane removed her hand from his shoulder and moved closer to her. “Don’t trust a man’s words.”
“You…”
William Lane’s hand went around to the back of her neck, supporting her as he kissed her, silencing her words.
Alia Smith was too tense, her body limp, but the left hand gripping the quilt kept tightening.
Gradually, she could not breathe, as if drowning.
She let out a soft hum, and William Lane let her go, kissing her moist lips twice before burying his face in her neck.
One minute, two minutes passed. Alia Smith listened to William Lane’s unsteady breathing, and gently moved her right wrist, which he still held. “Elder brother?”
“Hmm?” William Lane’s voice was hoarse, filled with heavy desire.
“You, you…” Alia Smith swallowed nervously. “Aren’t you…going to continue?”
William Lane bit her neck lightly.
It wasn’t heavy, but Alia Smith still let out a quiet cry.
William Lane kissed the place he had bitten again: “It’s not a safe day, and we don’t have anything prepared at ho. If we continue, you might get pregnant.”
“I, I…” Alia Smith wanted to hide herself again, but William Lane was pressing down on her, so she couldn’t hide. “How…how do you know?”
“We live together, how could I not know?” William Lane replied.
Alia Smith’s eyes darted around in the darkness, remaining silent for a while before finally speaking: “Don’t you…want a child?”
“I just want to raise you.” William Lane propped himself up and kissed her. “When you want one, we can discuss it.”
Alia Smith looked down: “Thank you, elder brother.”
“There’s nothing to thank for.” William Lane got up, stood by the bed, and tied the belt of his sleeping robe.
“Where are you going?” Alia asked.
“Taking a shower.” William Lane covered her with the quilt. “You sleep first.”
The word ‘shower’ floated around in Alia’s mind before she realized what he ant.
She turned over in bed, covering herself with the quilt.
After rolling around inside the quilt twice, she finally covered her head, curling up without moving.
As William Lane’s showering ti lengthened, Alia’s ti spent pretending to be dead also increased.
After a long ti, William Lane ca out after finishing his shower and found Alia curled up inside the quilt.
Just a small figure on the bed.
He walked over quietly and gently pulled the quilt open, intending to adjust her sleeping position. As soon as he touched her, he discovered she wasn’t asleep.
“Not asleep?”
With a resigned air, Alia lay flat on the bed: “Hmm.”
William Lane brushed the hair from her face, lay down beside her, and hugged her in his arms: “Sleep. It’s late.”
“Hmm.”
In a state of broken indifference, Alia fell asleep quickly in William Lane’s embrace.
Watching her fall asleep, William Lane smiled, pulled her closer, and went to sleep as well.
…
Alia Smith had a dream, one she often had since she was young.
She often dreamt of a dark, lightless forest, damp, gloomy, shrouded in thick fog.
It was the fear of darkness and the unknown.
Every ti she had that dream, Alia Smith tried to walk out of the forest, but she never could.
The farther she went, the more irrational her fear beca.
The more she walked, the deeper she sank into the forest.
But today, the dream changed.
As usual, she desperately tried to make her way out, but unlike before, she erged from the dark forest and saw the light.
She ran towards the light and the mont she stepped out of the forest, she suddenly turned back as if sensing sothing.
The dark forest slowly disappeared and finally transford into a person who looked exactly like her.
The person smiled at her, waved, and said, “Once you speak it, you can let it all go. Move forward, and from now on, you’ll have a new life. Hold his hand, and every day will be good.”
Sunlight stread into the room, making the air-conditioned room cozy and warm.
Alia Smith lay in bed, the shadow of her eyelashes resting on the bridge of her nose.
After a while, her eyelashes twitched, and she opened her eyes.
The sunlight outside was good, filling the room with a clean, bright scent.
Alia Smith stared blankly for a mont before she reached out and felt for soone beside her, but there was no one there.
She propped herself up and looked all around the room, but there was no one in sight.
She then glanced at the ti on the bedside table.
It was 9:30 already.
“………..”
Indeed, resting days were just a waste of ti.
Alia Smith sat up and noticed a sticky note affixed to the head of the bed, with a small red flower next to it.
The note read: [I am going to the Research Institute. Co downstairs for breakfast when you wake up. The small red flower is a reward for you. I hope Alia Smith will be happier today than yesterday.]
Alia Smith held the note for a while and picked up the flower, then she laughed.
Today was indeed better than yesterday.
Because of her arm injury, Alia Smith was ordered by William Lane to rest at ho, her carving knives, even the backup ones, were confiscated.
He even requested leave for her from the school.
Alia Smith could only read at ho to cushion her anxiety.
Not learning any new knowledge, not practicing skills, and not earning any money all caused her anxiety.
So, she sat at the railing on the second floor, stretching her legs while reading a book.
Life was supposed to be peaceful, but half an hour before lunch, Andrew Lane and Sophie Ortiz arrived.
Alia Smith was sitting upstairs, stretching her legs while reading a book. After a while, she switched legs. As soon as she placed her leg over the other, she caught a glimpse of soone standing in the living room downstairs out of the corner of her eye.
She looked up from her book and stared harder at the figure.
Not knowing when they arrived, Andrew Lane and Sophie Ortiz stood in the living room, looking up at her.
For a brief mont, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck her, cleaving her in two.
It seed like zombies had eaten her brain, and all the air in her lungs was sucked out.
She stared at them wide-eyed for a mont, imdiately put her leg down, stood up properly, and straightened her clothes.
She felt fortunate to have changed out of her pajamas after hesitating a few seconds when she woke up.
After composing herself, Alia Smith snapped back to her senses, hurried downstairs, and almost tripped on her foot on the stairway.
“Slow down,” Sophie Ortiz said softly.
Alia Smith stood obediently in front of Andrew Lane and Sophie Ortiz, bowed and said, “Chief Lane, Teacher Ortiz.”
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