Chapter 3: A Good Friend
The woman rushed in, her heels ferociously beating against the white floor tiles.
As soon as she saw the state of the room, her eyes widened in horror. The sink was full of dirty dishes, and the kitchen counter wasn’t cleaned. The trashcan hadn’t been emptied in a while. The air smelled stale as if the windows hadn’t been opened in days. And the man whose name she was screaming had dark circles under his eyes. It was clear he hadn’t been sleeping well.
"What’s going on?" she asked, rushing to his side. "Are you alright? Why haven’t you been answering my calls or messages?"
Hurriedly, she glanced over the state of his body. Other than his complexion, he looked healthy enough. But there was something subtle about his bearing. Even the smallest of his movements seemed attractive and sophisticated. Every detail—from the parting of his lips to the tilting of his head—made him extremely photogenic.
His usually tired amber eyes held a mysterious gravity. It was as if they were coals on fire. They held an insatiable thirst for something. It was as if he could see through anyone. It was as if he had seen what others couldn’t.
The lady shook her head. That’s right, she couldn’t be so easily dazed. She wasn’t here to admire her dearest friend. She was here to ensure his well-being.
"You are fine, right?" she asked again, her anxiety pacified.
"Yes," answered Averie with a faint smile. "I am fine."
He was studying the woman just as she studied him.
She wore a khaki dress suit over a white shirt and matching heels. Exhaustion was evident on her small face. She was rather thin with full lips, single-lidded eyes, and straight black hair.
’Finally feels like the East,’ Averie thought.