Chapter 207 A Gesture of Kindness
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Finished
Jean and Carl walked one behind the other down the long corridor of the estate.
The Gothic decor, soaked in dim night lighting, exuded a mysterious, somber charm.
Truthfully, Jean hadn’t completely let her guard down. After all, this place–the headquarters of the Secret Service–was still unfamiliar and unpredictable.
She hadn’t chosen to stay just because she was tired.
She stayed… because Carl was here.
Though the man clearly didn’t like her–hadn’t shown her the faintest warmth-
He also hadn’t hurt her. Not once.
Sometimes, blood ties were just that strange.
Carl, whether he acknowledged it or not, was her brother. His presence, inexplicably, made her feel… safe.
Even if he wasn’t warm. Even if they weren’t close. He still made her feel less alone in this vast, unfamiliar place.
Suddenly-
The tall figure ahead came to an abrupt stop.
Carl halted mid–step.
Jean nearly ran right into his back, her nose just shy of impact. She braked in time, barely avoiding him.
Just then, Carl turned around.
He looked at her with a strange expression, his deep eyes faintly reflecting the scattered starlight from outside.
Jean froze, eyes widening a little.
He just stood there, staring at her. Not saying a word.
Had it not been for his ability to hear her thoughts, Carl would never have known-
That Jean, deep down, was leaning on him emotionally.
Like a lost fledgling, attaching that soft, undefined reliance to the one person in this place who shared her blood–him.
He didn’t know why, but those quiet, honest thoughts stirred something in him.
Something faint. Subtle. But enough to ripple the surface of his guarded heart.
He was beginning to see Jean differently now.
13:31 Tue, 6 May
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Chapter 207 A Gesture of Kindness
It was… strange.
“You…”
Finished
Finally, Jean couldn’t take the silent stare anymore. Her skin prickled. She crossed her arms and snapped, “Why are you staring at me like that? You want to say something or what?”
Carl pressed his lips together, hesitated, then finally said, “It’s nothing. I just-”
His voice was lower than usual, uncertain. “Was wondering if you’d be uncomfortable sleeping here tonight.”
Jean’s eyes shot wide open, like she’d just heard the most earth–shattering revelation.
“No way–are you serious? Wait, what the hell?! Did Carl just ask if I’d be okay? The same Carl? Did someone take over his body? Since when does he worry about me? This guy’s the definition of emotionally constipated. This is suspicious as hell. What’s his angle?!”
Every last thought was picked up–crystal clear–by Carl’s inner ear.
He instinctively turned away, his eyes darting to the side.
His face didn’t look good.
His lashes dropped low, shadowing the quiet frustration in his gaze.
For the first time in his life, Carl had tried–awkwardly, yes–to show concern for someone.
And Jean’s first reaction? Suspect him of plotting something.
Tch. Fantastic.
He was… slightly annoyed.
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