“Um, thank you…?”
Suri let the unspoken question linger, hoping the implication would land on the man. At first, it didn’t. He looked at her blankly and raised his one visible brow at her. Then he nearly snorted to try and restrain a smile, his amusement revealing both his dimples. Her cheeks turned scarlet.
“Don’t laugh,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “I, well, I think you told me your name, but I totally forgot.”
“No. I never gave you my name.” He continued with a sardonic humor in his tone, “And to think that you were so quick to follow me home.”
She pouted. This guy was starting to infuriate her. Instead of answering her question, he scoffed with a smirk and sat in the chair across from her. He gestured for her to lay back down and she reluctantly complied.
“After that narky attitude you gave me, I’m inclined to not tell you a bloody thing.”
She tugged at the corners of the pillow in her hands in a nervous fidget. As the man placed his own teacup on the table, she sighed heavily and curled in on herself. Her voice lowered itself to a whisper, but she could feel that he was still indirectly observing her, so she figured he would hear her in the increasing quiet slowly filling the room.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes falling to wood grains in the gray floors. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m, well, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry that you had to help me.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken as he reached for the television remote and turned it on to whatever network it had been set to. The room fell so still that her rapid heartbeat felt like it would make her leap from the couch and fall to the floor.
She was about to tell him to forget it, to not bother telling her his name because he was probably just going to take her home soon anyway. What did it matter?
“What was your name, young lady?”
She perked up at his sudden question. “Um, S-Suri. Suri McAllister, but, uh, just Suri is fine.”
His eyes watched her, sipping from his cup, almost as if he were debating with himself whether to tell her or not who he was. He seemed guarded, but he set his teacup down once more and rose to a stand, lifting the pillows by her feet to get to the throw blanket beneath them.
“You’re ill, Suri. You should sleep,” he said, loosely draping her beneath the plush fabric as she tucked herself beneath the folds. “My name should be of little consequence to you.”
She pulled the blanket up to her face and frowned behind it but to her surprise he continued.
“However, I suppose it would make your stay easier to know that my name is Trenton. Trenton Merrick,” he watched her carefully as he moved to sit back down and pick up his teacup once more. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Suri.”
Suri was glad that the blanket was still covering her face. She felt a feverish blush tint her cheeks at his softened demeanor as she nodded an acknowledgement. The room fell quiet again, only filled with the soft sounds of the man flipping through the channels on the television.
The leather fabric of the couch trapped the warmth of her skin and the smell of herbal tea lead her to take several deep inhales. While she still felt sore, she knew the medicine she had taken would soon take effect and hopefully calm her fever and her wounds. Her hand naturally brushed against her forehead. Though she had recalled blood being on her uniform blouse, there wasn’t so much as a bruise on her head now. However, she dismissed the thought when a mild dizziness convinced her to close her eyes.
Trenton had won the battle before she had realized she was fully participating. As he flipped through the channels on the television, she yawned. After only a short while, her breathing evened out. And within moments, she was finally able to fall asleep.
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