Chapter 18
Noah
"Hey." Her voice is as soft as melted chocolate. Her deep blue eyes study me with concern.
I look around. Where am I?
Home.
Absentmindedly, I run my hands through my hair, then push myself up from the sofa.
Elina holds me back. "Stay seated. I'll get you a glass of water." Barely finishing her words, she turns around and walks to the kitchen. There, she confidently opens the overhead cabinet where I keep the glasses.
How did she know?
My mind refuses to find a solution to this puzzle. It feels foggy. And so heavy that I can barely carry it. Weary, I sink deeper into the sofa.
Suddenly, the city mouse sits next to me. Her blond hair glows in the incoming sunlight. "Drink this." With an encouraging nod, she hands me a glass.
"I'm not thirsty," I reply.
Nibbling on her lower lip, she sets the glass on the coffee table, grabs my wrist, and closes her eyes. Why does she have such a concerned expression? "Definitely too high," she murmurs eventually, and then her hands rest on my cheeks.
I want to protest, but I lack the strength.
She looks into my eyes with an inquisitive gaze. Herforehead furrows, and suddenly, she comes so close that I can feel her breath on my lips. I can barely register how she lifts my right eyelid, then the left.
"Did you black out?" she asks with her controlled doctor's voice. "Did you feel nauseous? Or dizzy?"
Quickly, I shake my head. "Just tired."
Finally, she lets go of me and puts some distance between us. "Why?" she asks as if it were something special to need sleep.
"Everyone gets tired." My tone is dismissive, but it has to be. I don't want her to have any reason to ask probing questions again.
"But not to the extent that you abandon everything while cooking to take a nap." She fixes me with her gaze, and something tells me she won't back down until I let her see into my innermost self.
She has cornered me once again.
Despite my exhausted limbs, I push myself up from the sofa. "Thanks for waking me up." I gesture with a hand motion that it's now time for her to make her way to the front door.
She leans back on the sofa, crossing her legs. The defiant doctor suddenly transforms into a defeated girl. "Always happy to help," she replies.
I have no idea what she wants from me. Only one thing is clear. She has no intention of leaving. "Well then..." I say again, tilting my head toward the door.
"Let me help." She looks at me intensely. "Please, Noah."
Of course, I already know that she has seen through me. Nevertheless, it's better if I pretend not to know what she's talking about.
"There's nothing you could help me with," I say, andthat's actually the truth. As much as I wish it were different. No one can help me. I am and will remain lost. It takes effort, but I manage to curl up the corners of my mouth.
Instead of getting up, she looks at me with shining eyes. "I may not be a skilled cook, but if you tell me what to do..."
She wants to cook for me? That's kind. Very kind, actually. But...
"No arguments," she insists. Motivated, she jumps up from the sofa and rolls up the sleeves of her blouse. "Should I continue with the carrots?" Bewildered, I watch as she grabs the vegetable knife, positions a carrot on the cutting board, and gets to work. "What is this supposed to be, anyway?" A carrot piece rolls along the countertop.
"Soup," I reply and can hardly believe what I see next. The prim and proper city girl presses herself against the edge of the countertop, using her fancy blouse to prevent the carrot from falling to the floor.
