NovelEnglishChapter 83 When Ernest stepped out onto the porch, he caughtsnoozing in front of my laptop, the dim glow of the lamp casting a soft light on my face. His gaze, tender and fixed, rested on me.
I could sense his presence, yet couldn't muster the energy to wake.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard his gentle voice, "Licia..." Licia?! Was he calling me? Yes, he was.
Before I becpart of the Wagner family, I was called Licia. But it had been ages since anyone calledthat. "Brother, I'm Licia..." A vision of a little girl with her hair tied in two buns and a cherubic face sweetly calling out to a boy appeared before my eyes.
The boy was aloof, a man of few words.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtSuddenly, I was the girl, and Ernest, the boy, withclinging to his back.
"Brother, you smell nice..." "Brother, there's a little mole on the back of your neck. Letget it for you." "Don't pinch, Licia. It hurts." "Licia, I'm tired. Can we stop running now?" "Mom, I love brother. I want to marry him..." "Ha ha..." "Mom, Dad, stop laughing. I'm going to marry him." "Licia, you can't marry him. You're already betrothed..." "I won't marry him; he's a jerk, a total jerk!" I woke with a start, my breathing erratic.
It was incredible. How could I have dreamt of Ernest and me, especially as children, no older than two? Lying in bed, I zoned out for a half-minute before trying to get up, only to realize something was off the moment my feet touched the ground.
This wasn't my room.
My mind raced back to last night, and I quickly glanced at the bed where I had slept. Ernest wasn't there.
Looking down at my clothes, I saw they were untouched.
I sighed with relief and walked out, only to find Ernest asleep on the couch.
True to his military background, even in sleep, he was neat and orderly, which madewonder if such rigidity was ever uncomfortable.
Honestly, his precision was so impeccable it almost madewant to disturb it.
He didn't wake as I quietly moved from the couch to my laptop, carefully picking it up and tiptoeing away.
The thought of having fallen asleep here was mortifying.
Luckily, I had taken my room key withlast night. Sneaking back without waking Deborah, the queen of gossip, was a relief.
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Checking my phone, it was only five in the morning. Knowing sleep was m out of the question, opened my wel laptop to address the issues Ernest had identified yesterday. To my surprise, he had already resolved them all.
Staring at the screen, I lost myself for a moment before starting my m morning routine and stepping out onto the balcony to enjoy the view. That's when Ernest showed up again, suddenly appearing in the scene.
Was he awake now?
He was still asleep when I left. Did my opening the door wake him, or had he been awake all elding, pretending to be asleep to sparethe embarrassment? From the balcony, I watched him below, my thoughts in turmoil...
At this moment, I had to admit, Ernest was increasingly influencing me.
[When a man and a woman spend the night in the sroom and nothing happens, what do you think that means?] I sent this cheeky text to Fanny first thing in the morning.
Ashburn > X
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