Then came another round of wine.
Louis was the one pouring, so after seeing Hazel’s condition, he asked, “Do you still want another cup of wine?”
“Yes,” Hazel replied while nodding at the same time.
Louis poured just about half a cup before moving to the next person.
Hazel gulped down the wine immediately, the burning sensation spreading through her throat at once.
After this, her previously flushed face became even redder, yet she stood up, swaying slightly.
Holding her cup toward Louis, she said, “I…
still want moreeee.” Her voice was slurred from the alcohol.
“Still what?
More wine?” Louis asked, looking at her slightly swaying posture.
“Yes,” Hazel replied.
Louis sighed as he was about to pour more for her when Simon spoke up.
“No need to give her more wine.”
“Yes, Captain,” Louis replied almost immediately.
His hands, which had been about to pour the wine, stopped.
Seeing this, Hazel turned to face Simon, pointing her finger at him.
Her steps staggered as she walked over to stand in front of him.
“You…”
“Burp.”
Her hands quickly moved to cover her mouth.
Simon smiled slightly at her expression.
She looked…
What word should he use?
Cute.
Yeah, she looked cute.
He stopped smiling after noticing his wandering thoughts.
Then he stood up.
“I should escort her to the Guide Building,” he declared.
The men nodded and stood to see him off as he left before returning to their drinking.
She staggered throughout the journey.
As they walked, with Hazel in front and Simon just two steps behind her, Hazel would occasionally wander off the walking path, and Simon would guide her back onto the road.
She pushed his hands away and said in a displeased tone, “Don’t touch me.”
Simon chuckled at her antics but still guided her whenever she went off course.
This continued until, suddenly, she fell to the ground.
It happened so unexpectedly that before Simon could move, he heard an “Ouch.”
Hazel was holding her foot.
Simon bent down to see what was wrong, and as soon as his hands made contact with her foot, she hissed.
She had sprained her ankle; he could tell because she could no longer walk properly.
He helped her put her arms over his shoulder while he held her by the waist as they walked.
But after just five steps, Hazel stopped.
“Waaah!
It hurts so badly!” she exclaimed from the pain, tears falling from her eyes.
If she were sober, Hazel would be surprised that she cried.
Ever since she could remember at the Blackthorn Organization, she had never cried.
No matter how painful the training was or even when she suffered gunshot wounds during dangerous missions, she would never cry.
Instead, she would remove the bullet from the wound without batting an eye.
Yet now, she was crying over something as minor as a sprained ankle.
Simon really did not know what to do when a woman was crying.
He could only fidget, not knowing where to place his hands.
So he said in a voice so gentle that he could not believe he even had it, “Hey, don’t cry.
Okay?
Don’t cry.”
This did nothing, as tears continued to stream down Hazel’s face.
“Sorry.
Don’t cry, okay?
You don’t have to walk.
I will carry you,” he said.
After a few minutes of stiff coaxing, Hazel stopped crying, and Simon turned his back to her.
She climbed onto his back, and he started heading toward their destination.
After she cried, her tendrils, which had been kept under control, also came out as she became relaxed against Simon’s back.
“Uh, Snaky is here,” the tendrils thought as they wrapped themselves around Simon’s waist.
Simon’s neck and ears flushed red even more at this.
Immediately after Hazel climbed onto his back, his sensitive senses had already picked up her body heat against his.
After taking the first step, he felt a softness against his back that he had been trying to ignore.
With the continuous rubbing of the tendrils against his waist, he felt that this was more torture than an escort.
To make things even worse, probably influenced by her tendrils, Hazel said against his neck, “I want to see Snaky.”
The heat from her breath against his neck was far more tormenting.
He could not help but cuss out.
“F**k.”
“You will see it when you get home,” he said while thinking, “Little ancestor, please stop talking against my neck.”
Just as he hoped she had stopped talking, she started rubbing against his neck instead, uncomfortable with the prickling of his hair.
The one-hour walk back to the Guide Building felt like he had spent ten years on the road.
After getting into the building, he asked Hazel, “Where is your room?”
“Mmmhh, my room is upstairs,” she replied.
Simon quickly took her to where she directed him.
He breathed a sigh of relief after settling her onto her bed.
He helped remove her shoes, and her injured foot was a little swollen compared to the other one.
So he went to the kitchen he had noticed on his way.
Opening the fridge, he saw some ice, which he placed into a packet.
He returned to Hazel’s room and placed it on her foot.
The sudden coldness against her warm foot made her hiss at first, but she sighed later as the pain began to reduce.
After a while, Simon removed the ice pack from her foot.
Then he bandaged her ankle before placing a pillow underneath it.
Then he tucked her into bed and lowered the lamp beside the bed as he turned to leave.
Hazel grabbed his hand while the tendrils also wrapped around his wrist.
He sighed, then bent down to her bed level.
Under the dim light, her face was flushed, and her red lips were slightly parted.
Seeing her appearance, Simon felt his throat tighten, and he suddenly felt thirsty.
“I want Snaky,” Hazel whispered, her eyes still closed.
“You will see Snaky tomorrow, okay?” he assured her.