NovelEnglishChapter 193 It was Ernest! He was at the door, one hand turning the knob while the other carried a bag full of spinach.
Maybe the sound of the door opening startled him; he turned, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of me.
I stood there, almost soulless, just staring at him without uttering a word.
"Something up?" Ernest asked, snappingback to reality. I shook my head in response.
"You sick?" he asked, setting down the bag and stepping closer.
Still halfway between sleep and wakefulness, my mouth felt too heavy to open, so I shook my head again.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtA cool touch on my forehead, Ernest's hand checking my temperature, followed by his slightly stern voice, "You got a fever?" I was too dazed to even realize he was talking about me.
Seeing my confusion, Ernest stepped inside, and in the next moment, he liftedinto his arms.
Feeling already light-headed, his action madefeel even more so, and instinctively, my arms wrapped around him.
Ernest placedon the couch, quickly scanning the room before asking, "Where are your slippers?" Without him mentioning it, I hadn't even realized I was barefoot, my mind elsewhere. Blinking, I still didn't respond.
A sigh of resignation in his eyes, Ernest got up, went to my bedroom, and returned with my slippers to put them on my feet. Then, he asked, "Got a thermometer?" "I'd like swater," I replied, changing the subject.
He paused, slightly taken aback, then went to getwater, only to find the kettle empty.
Instead of gettingswater, he pickedup again and carriedout.
I didn't ask where he was taking me; somehow, I felt no worry in his arms.
Ernest carriedinto his room, placinggently on the sofa before going to get swater. He then cback with a thermometer, asking, "Know how to use it?" I hesitated, and he placed the thermometer in my hand, making. sure I wouldn't let it fall by holding my hand gently. "I can't really do it for you. You'll have to place it under your arm," he explained slowly, making sure I understood.
Letting go of my hand, he added, "I'll get you swater. We'll start with smedicine, and if you're not better, I'll take you to the hospital." "Try taking your temperature first!" he remindedwhen I didn't move.
"Oh," was my delayed response. Then, without any regard for his presence, I just opened my shirt and tucked the thermometer under my arm. Ernest looked away until I was done, then fetcheda glass of water and spills.
"Here, take these," he offeredthe medicine and water.
I took them, attempting to swallow the pill, but failed miserably. The pill quickly turned soggy, its bitter taste spreading in my mouth until couldn't bear it and spat it out.
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Ernest was quick, catching the soggy Ο pill mixed with my saliva in his palm. red with I was stunned.
"It's okay. Drink swater, and we'll try the medicine later," he said, m mece unfazed by the mess. "Want ssugar?" he asked, noticing my daze.
I didn't reply, just sipped my water quietly.
Ernest then stood up and returned with a piece of clear rock candy.
"Sugar cube," he offered, holding it up to my lips.
I didn't open my mouth, but the memory flashed before my eyes - when I was a child, despising the bitterness of medicine, my parents would always have a sugar cube ready as a sweet relief. They were wary of cavities, rarely allowingsweets, but that made those moments with a sugar cube even more special. Ashburn >
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