Me After Meeting You

Inside the ward, Ian was still sitting by the head of the bed, his complexion pale and stark white, even his lips’ color bleached out.

He seemed like a flower past its prime whose petals were wilting pitifully, completely devoid of its previous cold and haughty demeanor.

Amber walked over. She first picked up the medical records by the head of his bed in a smooth manner. Good-his last few temperature readings showed that his high fever had broken.

Although she wasn’t a specialist, she knew that, given his situation, as long as the fever broke, the rest would be far easier.

She put down the records and finally turned around to face him. Amber couldn’t help but smile-Ian couldn’t see her smile, but he could tell that she was smiling because her eyes, the only part of her body that was exposed, had curved into crescents.

“Are you better?”

Ian didn’t respond, turning instead to face the other side of the room. A nurse pushed a cart inside; on the pushcart were cups filled with medicine, needles, and other medical paraphernalia.

Amber almost immediately noticed Ian’s anxiety, and couldn’t help but be momentarily startled. It couldn’t be-the brilliant Ian Axton, who acted as though he didn’t care much about anything, was actually afraid of needles?

He was really quite scared, so much so that he even ignored Amber as he stared rigidly at the needle in the nurse’s hands.

“Ian Axton?” The nurse pinched the needle tip, verifying his identity.

Ian didn’t speak, so Amber had to answer for him. “Yes, he’s Ian Axton.”

The nurse glanced at her, and then lowered the needle, preparing to give him an injection. Ian stretched out his hand rigidly, and the nurse had to tap his wrist several times before finally saying, “Relax.”

But despite the request, Mr. Axton’s hand remained as taut as ever. Even though he was trying his hardest to cooperate, his muscles contracted of their own accord.

His physique wasn’t bad, and the muscles in his hand were well developed. Once he got nervous, his muscles became bundles of steel.

Seeing this, Amber suddenly grabbed his other hand as she lightly called out to him.

Ian turned around subconsciously, his mind relaxing for a moment. And in that moment, the nurse found the correct vein and thrust the needle into his skin.

Good, there was blood flowing.

Beautiful people always received preferential treatment. Were he an ordinary man, the nurse might have sneered at him and left upon realizing that such a big fellow was afraid of a needle. But because he was so handsome, the nurse even comforted him. “Look, it doesn’t hurt, does it? Don’t be so anxious.”

Amber couldn’t help but laugh, which made Ian glare at her. When the nurse left, he snatched her hand, pulled it next to his face, and ran his teeth over it.

There wasn’t any blood, but he did leave a neat row of teeth marks; it didn’t hurt, but it was quite suggestive.

Amber took her hand back, somewhat embarrassed, but Ian behaved like nothing had happened. He closed his eyes and shamelessly requested, “I’d like to hear a story.”

His tone was cold, but his voice was hoarse. Without his usual power, he sounded like an awkward child acting coyly with an adult.

Amber didn’t refuse and told him a story, his favorite one. Ian must have been exhausted, because he fell asleep before she could even finish. Amber adjusted his bed a little to help him sleep easier, only leaving when she saw him sleeping soundly.

***

As she exited the room, she saw Nancy looking at her strangely.

Amber couldn’t help but touch her face as she asked, “What is it? Is there something on my face?”

Nancy merely responded, “Amber, how old are you?”

“Twenty nine.”

“Hmm, age isn’t the problem. At least now I know why, despite your looks and personality, you’ve never been in a romantic relationship until now.”

Amber was very surprised, as this seemed like a random topic to bring up; when had Professor Nancy started behaving like an ordinary woman, gossiping about such things? But she didn’t correct her; the main reason why she had never been in a relationship was because that person wasn’t here. Once he returned, however, she had indeed quickly gotten into one.

Somewhat amused, she asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because the way you look at other people is too benevolent. From their point of view, your eyes probably remind them of their mother’s.”

Amber choked quite abruptly.

Nancy laughed loudly, and then she dragged Amber to her office. Instead of first discussing Ian’s illness, she instead asked, “Amber, even though you’re more of a mother than me, what will you do if someone particularly likes that aspect of you? Let me ask you something tell me honestly, have you ever considered getting into a relationship with your patients?”

After running around for the entire morning, Amber had been thirsty and had naturally poured herself a glass of water and taken a sip right as she entered. When Nancy asked such a bizarre question, she almost choked again.

Amber could only reply very seriously. “Professor, I already have a boyfriend.”

Nancy made a soft ‘Oh’ in response as she inspected her closely. The girl in front of her had a very youthful face and was young, pretty, and filled with an exuberant vitality. This really made her admire Amber. She had known her for quite a while now: the first time Nancy had met Amber was when the latter was a senior in college, following behind a bunch of students doing a practicum. While the others had been somewhat frenetic and wary about the prospect of facing a mentally ill patient, she had already started approaching him.

Even after all these years, her vitality had not been depleted one bit; it wasn’t just a matter of youth, but also her passion and love towards her career.

But Nancy put all this aside and casually asked, “How long has it been going on for?” After hearing that it hadn’t been too long, she clicked her tongue. “You should still be in the passionate stage, but I don’t see any of that sweetness in your face.”

Amber responded somewhat drolly, “I didn’t know that you could read faces too, professor.”

Nancy was proud. “Of course, I’m a psychiatrist! I’ve been very interested in psychoanalysis lately, and my ability to glean information from other people’s expressions has improved.”

“I’ve been reading fewer books than I should lately.” Amber was ashamed at hearing that even a famous psychiatrist like Nancy was still working hard to advance herself.

Nancy was very understanding. “You’re working and have a lot of busy work too. As long as your heart is there, it’s fine.”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.