Ch. 131 Iâll Go In (2)
Claire felt a cold hand brushing away her fringe, and she opened her eyes. They were still blurry with sleep, but she could dimly make out a pair of blue irises staring down at her. It was not difficult to identify who they belonged to, even when she couldnât see properly. Or maybe she would still know even with her eyes closed. She knew his presence.
ââ¦Iâm fine.â
Claire spoke insistently, but a voice dissipated her attempt to persuade him.
âI havenât asked anything yet.â
She heard a grumble in response, and her vision grew clearer.
âBut you were going to ask, werenât you?â
Dean mumbled, âthatâs true,â and didnât say anything else.
âItâs just a cold.â
âBut your forehead is hot.â
âItâs just a symptom of a cold.â
âItâs very hot.â
He turned his warmed palm over. The back of his hand felt like a relief on her hot skin, and Claire closed her eyes for a moment.
âAny other symptoms?â
He was probably going to get her some medicine. He was so mature now, and Claire smiled.
âJust a cough and a fever.â
âWhat about eating?â
âMy throat is too uncomfortable.â
âOkay, andâ¦â
Dean sighed, staring at the blanket that was pulled up to her chin. It too was thin. If anyone slept in this condition, even Louise Sweeney, a human being that seemed to be made of steel, would catch a cold.
âArenât you cold under the blanket?â
âYes, but Iâll be okay.â
One of Claireâs arms peeked out as she adjusted the blanket. Dean tugged her arm and saw that she was wearing a summer nightgown with short sleeves.
âYouâre wearing this?â
â â¦Iâll be okay.â
âMaking all these excuses, you!â
Claire wanted to yell âItâs because of you!â but couldnât summon the energy to. Her mind was in too much of a turmoil to carefully prepare for autumn. And the cause of that was the very same Dean Crissis standing before her.
He tucked her arm back underneath the blanket, then strode over to her closet and opened it. They had frequently gone through each otherâs closets since childhood, so Claire didnât protest. In any case, her body felt so heavy that she couldnât move at all.
Dean retrieved a thick winter nightgown and fuzzy socks that she only wore in the winter.
âIâll go get some medicine, so change into these.â
Claire stared at the clothes he placed on the blanket and nodded.
After she slipped into the new clothes and crawled back into bed, Dean came back with the medicine. He was out of breath, as if he had run back, and had various other items tucked in his arms as well.
The first thing that caught her eyes was a thick blanket. He pulled off her thin summer blanket, looked at it as if it were a terrible monster, and threw it on the floor. Then he tucked the thick cozy blanket over Claireâs body.
âItâs yours, isnât it?â
His ears turned red.
âYes! Donât mind it if itâs dirty.â
She didnât mean to imply it was dirty. He held out something else. It was a hot water bottle that was occasionally used by the caretaker in the winter, and was wrapped in an old cloth. He put the heated bag of water under a thick blanket.
âThis is hot, so Iâm putting it under the covers.â
âDid you borrow it?â
âYou donât need to know.â
Claire carefully adjusted the hot water bottle with her fingers.
âAnd this.â
This time, Dean brought her a mealâa vegetable stew prepared at the Academy for patients. It looked delicious, but Claire didnât feel like eating. The blanket was hot and pleasant, and it was making her drowsy.
âDonâtâ¦donât wanna eat.â
The stern look returned.
Claire sighed inwardly. If their positions were exchanged, Claire would have looked at Dean with that expression as well.
âI feel a little dizzyâ¦and weak. Iâll sleep and then eat later.â
âThe President.â
âHuh?â
âI can see why he sometimes forces food onto Louise Sweeney.â
âWell, Louise is good at everything. Even eating.â
Claireâs face lightened as she talked about her friend.
âDo you really like her that much?â
It was enough to annoy him.
âI like her. Sheâs cute.â
He couldnât find an answer to that. Claire had said to Dean that âhe was losing his cuteness with age.â If he had known this, he wouldâve tried to keep a bit of his cuteness.
ââ¦Eat.â
Claire finally yielded, and groaned as she pushed herself in a sitting position. She turned pale from the effort.
âHow long have you been like this?â
He placed the tray on her blanket.
âItâs been chilly since last night. Oh, that food is warmâ¦â
Claire looked thrilled as she took a bite of stew. She thought she was too dizzy and weak to be able to eat, but before she knew it, she had cleaned the bowl. Dean cleared away the dishes and tray without making a noise, and took out a small glass bottle with horrible brown medicine. Claire heard about that medicine. It was supposedly extremely bitter and sticky.
âMy goal was not to take that medicine until I graduated.â
âDonât pick up any weird goals.â
He opened the medicine bottle, then set another goal like Claire.
âOr I will never eat until I graduate.â
Claire knew the medicine would make her better, so she summoned her nerve and drank the liquid. She tried not to let it touch her tongue as much as possible, but its horrible taste clung to her mouth like glue. Claireâs face wrinkled in disgust, and Dean handed her the final item.
âThis is from Louise.â
âDid she ask you to give this to me?â
âWell, something like that.â
He held out the pudding with a reluctant face. Claire quickly ate a spoonful and allowed the sweetness to melt away the taste of medicine.
âItâs delicious.â
âNo need for thanks.â
She soon cleared the pudding cup as well, then set it down on the floor and sank back against her pillows.
âDo you feel alright?â
Dean sat carefully by her side and handed over a glass of water from her bedside table, worry etched on his features. Claire nodded as she accepted the glass from him. It was warmed to her favorite temperature. How did he know it would be difficult for her to drink if it wasnât prepared like this?
â â¦warm.â
Claire murmured softly. Only she knew that she didnât mean the water.
âI canât give you a cold water.â
âThatâs true.â
She was strangely touched by his kindness today. Perhaps it was because she got sick out of the blue. If she were at home, nothing would have changed. She inherited neither title nor business, and her becoming ill would not be much of a topic. From an early age, she only had one friend that cared about her sincerely.
âAre you okay, sister? Does it hurt a lot?â
The blond, round-faced boy who was as pretty as a doll.
âYou were so cute back then.â
Sometimes, Claire had even put him in dresses to look like a girl. But this time, Dean didnât bring up his complaints.
âYou were pretty then too.â
âThat almost sounds like youâre saying Iâm ugly now.â
âNow you understand how I feel.â
âWellâ¦â
Claire smiled bitterly and clenched the warm glass.
â Actually, thatâs what I think about me too.â
She always thought of herself as pretty when she was little, but when she got older, she went to a party and found out that there were so many more beauties.
âMy hair is dull and dark, and itâs hard to choose a dress to go with it. I went to Madame Emilyâs shop once.â
Claire paused and yawned, feeling pleasantly warm and drowsy inside. Perhaps it was the effect of the medicine. Her head felt muffled, as if someone had drawn a curtain over it.
âIâm sleepyâ¦â
Claire set down the cup and yawned again. The hot water bottle underneath the blanket was warming up her insides.
âHere.â
Claire shook her head. She wanted to finish what she was saying.
âLie down. Iâll listen to you.â
At his suggestion, Claire snuggled underneath the blanket and smiled.
âSo, I went to Emilyâs shop, and sheâs showing me a hat thatâs in fashion these days, and various items as well. But no matter what she gave me, my hair was so big and weird.â
âWhy are you dealing with such a bad shop? There are plenty of others in the capital.â
âItâs not bad. Marquis Burgess goes there too.â
Dean said nothing. He loved Claireâs dark hair. During childhood, he told Claire that he wanted to have thick dark hair like hers. His parents werenât pleased, but he was fascinated by it. He secretly watched Claire when the wind would blow, scattering her locks and revealing her pale neck. In the memories he had of her, he always thought of that color.
It was only when Claire was about to leave him did he quickly realize how special she was to him. If Claire Iris married her fiancé, he would never see that color again. Ever.
He heard the steady sound of breathing. The healer had said that medicine would make Claire sleepy. Dean looked down at her face, which moved in rhythm to her breathing.
His reply to her came belatedly.
ââ¦Of course youâre pretty, idiot.â
He didnât know why she thought that of herself. She was the most outstanding student in the academy.
âThe ugly one is your fiancé.â
He was honest in his disgust. Her fiancé was good-looking, of course, but he was an ugly, despicable man.
âYou really canât pick your men.â
Claireâs mouth twitched at Deanâs mumbling. He was such an idiot.
ââ¦Sorry.â
Dean scratched his head and looked around. It would be strange if he stayed here for too long, so he thought he should head back.
â â¦.Itâs okay.â
Until a soft voice answered. Dean looked down at Claire again in surprise. Her eyes were still closed, but her lips were moving softly.
âI donât like his face either.â
She could barely make out Deanâs blurred figure through the slits in her eyes.
âIâm pathetic, arenât I?â
Dean shook her head. The whole thing was not Claireâs fault.
âYouâre not pathetic.â
He touched Claireâs forehead, its heat warming his hand again. She was so soft to the touch. Come to think of it, didnât the hateful Louise Sweeney liken Claire to an eclair?
âWhy are you smiling?â
âI just remembered something Louise Sweeney said.â
He smiled dryly, sweeping Claireâs hair off her forehead. As annoying as it was, he agreed with that little tomboy.
âLouise? What did she say?â
âNothing much. Just that you were soft and sweet.â
He answered with a gentle sweep of Claireâs cheek with his fingertips. Once he started, he didnât think he could pull his hand away. And Claire wasnât stopping him, either.
â ⦠Are.â
When his hand came near his lips, Claire softly opened her mouth.
âArenât you going to do it? â
That was the only question on her mind. They had already crossed the line of friendship once, and it would be easier to do it the second time. No, things like lines had long been gone.
âI wonât do it if you donât want me to.â
âItâs not thatâ¦â
âThen?â
Claire smiled awkwardly. She wouldnât have said this under normal circumstances, but her sickness had dissolved the walls she had worked so hard to build up. Maybe she was acting like a spoiled child. Or maybe she was just tired.
âItâs kind of awkward to do that with youâ¦â
âAnd then?â
ââ¦Itâs embarrassing.â
âI know. And?â
There was a slight urgency in his voice. Before she knew it, he leaned over her and came close to her face.
âYouâ¦you might catch my cold.â
âIt doesnât matter. What else?â
A cold didnât matter?
âIâm engaged.â
âI knew that. Why else?â
âI told youâ¦â
Claire closed her eyes.
âItâs painful to know that itâs something that I canât do.â
ââ¦â
âMy D is the only beautiful memory in my mindâ¦â
âMy Dâ was a name only Claire used, back in the days when she was delighted that the first letters of their names were next to each other.
âWhen sometimes I feel like Iâm sinking in the mudâ¦â
In Deanâs eyes, Claire did seem like someone helplessly trapped in mud. She was an adult now, with an arranged marriage and subsequent contracts that dragged her into the mire. The strong Claire Iris was desperately finding a way for air.
âIâll go inâ¦â
Before he knew it, they could feel each otherâs breath.
âIâll follow you anywhere. I donât care if it gets messed up.â
ââ¦â
âTake hold of me. Claire Iris.â
Their lips met. There was a deep sadness, as if they knew the end wouldnât be so beautiful.
So for a while they shut down all senses except each other. There were only the two of them left now.