"I was called to VCH to check on a patient, I'll be right outside." A cool male voice sounded over the phone.
Andrew's car was parked outside Verizon City Hospital. He'd been here to pick someone up, signs of annoyance could already be seen on his face as he replied to the voice on the phone.
"First the airport, now here. Do you believe that I'll ditch you?" He'd gone to the airport to pick up this person only for him to receive a call that he should come pick him up at VCH instead, and now he was being made to wait.
"Come on, don't get all worked up. I'll be right there," the voice said with a hint of playfulness and hung up.
Andrew felt the familiar throb in his forehead, an intense kind of headache due to constant lack of sleep. This condition had plagued him for years, and only one person out of all the doctors that checked on him managed to give him some sort of remedy. And this person happened to be his long-time acquaintance who called himself his best friend.
He leaned against the backrest, closing his eyes to endure the ceaseless pounding in his head. He left the car windows open so he could enjoy the night breeze, but a few seconds later, a familiar fragrance drifted over to him, causing his resting eyes to snap open. This fragrance had unconsciously imprinted itself into his head... a natural fragrance that smelled like honey and berries.
He looked around, searching for the source of the fragrance till his eyes landed on the figure hurrying along the sides of the road outside the hospital.
Andrew's brows pulled together. There was haste to her steps, at the same time a sense of dejection to her slumped shoulders.
He found himself stepping out of the car, eyes fixed onto that woman currently bound to him in a contract, even though she had no idea it was him. Every reminder of the contract made a bitter taste clench his throat—it reminded him of the fact that she was just like them, she was just like the others.
Andrew's expression suddenly hardened to steel. He clamped down the rising curiosity within him and turned his back to her direction, about to get into his car, but suddenly stopped.
What was she doing here? Did her wound open up again? The thought froze him in place, and he swirled on his heels to her direction again—but she was gone.
His eyes searched around, seeking to find the bouncy waves of brown hair among the crowd of people, but she was gone. Regardless of that, his legs moved hastily as he followed the last path he'd seen her.
Why was the girl so damned careless? Her wound should damn well be on its way to fully healing by now.
Why else would she be at the hospital if her wound hadn't opened up?
A few minutes of walking aimlessly outside the hospital still hadn't helped him find her.
He stopped himself among the throngs of people coming and going, his teeth gnashing together in annoyance.
To fucking hell with this!
Why was he wasting his precious time looking for her?
That thought prompted him to make his way back towards his car, but he stopped again. If a spectator was watching him at this moment, they would wonder why his expression seemed to change several times or why he seemed to search and stop as if trying to find someone, then getting annoyed and changing his mind, but then continuing looking again. It was like one warring with themselves.
But that internal war didn't stop until he found himself treading past the hospital towards the nearest bus stop, where he found her sitting alone, waiting for the bus to arrive.
His feet came to a stop. Just as they'd moved of their own accord to find her, they stopped at the point they found their aim.
The night breeze blew with a faint chill. The young woman sat with her arms curled around her body, but something other than cold seemed to eat her from the inside.
Loneliness...
Even from a distance, he could sense the feeling radiating from around her. That feeling was something he knew better than anyone. It took him back to old memories...
He suddenly broke off the direction his own thoughts were taking him.
They were leading him into the darkness hidden in the depths of his memories, something nothing and no one had ever triggered him to revisit.
The feeling of anger was quick to grow, causing his fists to clench by his side.
She had no right to elicit these kinds of thoughts within him. She had no right to remind him of the darkness he escaped from.
His feet moved again, but not involuntarily—this time with sure, long, furious steps till he reached her.
She didn't seem to notice his presence even though he came to stand right before her. His temper riled even more, uncertain whether it was due to the fact that she didn't notice his presence or the fact that there was pain in her eyes... the kind he knew all too well.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her up from where she was sitting on the bench at the bus stop.
"Why the hell did you get your wound opened up again? What the fuck were you doing for that to happen?" He remembered the last time her wound had opened up—she had been with him at his manor on a quest to satisfy her ambitions of wealth and luxury. But he'd completely forgotten the fact that he wasn't supposed to know about her wound opening up once before in the first place, since to her, Andrew Sterling and the masked man she was bound with in contract were two different people.
He expected her to be startled, but there seemed to be a lifelessness to those eyes as they slowly trailed up to gaze at him. That was when he stopped short, a strange cold seeping into him all of a sudden.
The lights illuminated the crystal-like fluid dancing within her light brown eyes, fluid that didn't pour down as if they were being held back. She stared at him for a long while as if she hadn't even registered what he'd said in the first place before she seemed to recover and moved, aiming to release herself from his sudden grip—but he held on, his fingers tightening further around her arm.
She had tears in her eyes... that realization had caused him to subconsciously grip her arm tighter, his action fueled by the unknown emotion roiling inside of him at the sight of the liquid in her eyes.
The rims of her eyes were red, evident that she'd been crying.
Was she crying because of her wound?
His eyes immediately dropped lower, but he had no way of seeing the wound beneath her shirt.
"Mr. Sterling..." Her voice was painfully low and hoarse as she called his name in a bewildered tone, but his infuriated roar cut her off.
"Who told you to fucking hurt yourself again?!"
"What?"
"Do you think this makes you pitiful, sitting out here and crying like this?" He gripped her arm tighter in a way that made her wince, the tears further clouding her eyes.
He hated this... how it seemed like she would be harder to ignore compared to his other contracted, gold-digging women.
When did this trace of pity for her begin within him? Was it since the last time she'd fainted in the manor due to opening her wound?
Was it due to the humiliation she'd bit back then, refusing to break even when he expected her to?
She lowered her head, hiding the tears in her eyes, then suddenly pushed back to release herself from his grip. This time he let her go.
He expected defiance, for her to talk back to him and stand up to him like every other time whenever he spoke to her. But after pulling away, she kept her head lowered. It made a knot tighten in his chest for some reason, and it caused annoyance to boil within him.
"Answer me!" The words slipped through gritted teeth, and he saw her flinch at the sudden sound of his voice.
Every bit of her seemed broken, shattered by something she couldn't fight. But why that seemed to affect him was the reason for his anger towards her.
She had no right!
She didn't say a single word, nor did she look up at him again. And if she'd answered him with the same amount of defiance she usually would, it would have melted the pool of rage boiling within him.
Andrew Sterling was a man cast by indifference and nonchalance, most people knew... but in this moment, it felt non-existent, because several emotions roiled inside him. And what did he do with emotions? He destroyed them—and the source of them.
He took two steps towards her when she suddenly moved, causing him to stop in his tracks once more due to the weakness in her steps, and he realized that no physical wounds had caused this weakness. What plagued her lay deep inside.
She passed him without seeming to care about his presence. Only then did he realize the bus had arrived behind him, but he'd been too distracted to notice.
He watched her enter the bus, until she settled in a seat where he could see her through the windows... and that was when her tears fell.
He sighted them sliding down her face as the bus drove away before him.