Chương 9: The sleeping beauty (1)
Chris Lindt stepped onto the terrace with a glass of brandy and a cigarette. He had just finished working and could finally relax, even though a new day was about to start. The lights of dawn were colouring the horizon line pink, and the moon was disappearing behind a group of white fluffy clouds.
So early in the morning, he felt like the only person alive. The early birds were singing to each other, exchanging news with their tweets and flirting as shamelessly as only birds could. A raven would jump from one branch to the other of the tree in the garden, making the leaves tremble.
"Did you work all night?" Chris heard.
He turned in the direction of the other door on the terrace, and he saw May in a light nightgown, her hair moving in the breeze.
"Something happened. I had to deal with it urgently," he replied.
May chuckled, and the sound of her laughter made him shiver. He hadn't heard it before, which made that moment even more special.
"What could have happened during the night? You fell behind schedule, didn't you? There's no need to be so polite, Senator Lindt. Next time you can tell me, and I won't bore you with my talks."
"Listening to you was all but boring," he pointed out.
He saw her reddening cheeks and cursed the night for being so dark. If there was a little light, he would have seen her embarrassment better. But, would they be having that conversation in the daylight?
There was something magical in the way she was talking. She did have her grandfather's charm, even though hidden because of her character.
Also, after sleeping, her trembling had lost intensity. He didn't see any shiver, not even at the chilly breeze. She seemed to be in her element, wearing almost nothing at the earliest hour of the morning.
"Why are you awake so early?" he asked, suspecting there was something wrong. "Do you have problems sleeping? We can change the mattress if it's not good."
"I've slept for nearly four hours. It's more than enough," May replied. "And the mattress must be the most comfortable I've ever tried."
When the breeze transformed into wind, even Chris shivered at the cold. His cigarette was over, and the brandy was not enough to keep him warm. As he wondered how could May resist so well, he remembered what the doctor had said.
Sure.
She wasn't resisting. She didn't feel the cold because her nerves weren't working properly!
He left the glass, almost empty but not yet, on the table in the corner and walked to her. With the lack of emotions of a doctor, he touched her forearm without asking for permission. She was a patient, and she couldn't sense normally. It was his job to keep her warm, hydrated, and comfortable.
As his fingers made contact with the icy skin of her forearm, his blood stopped its run in his veins. She was freezing out there! Couldn't she realise it by herself, even without feeling the cold, that a nightgown was not enough to shield her from the spring breeze?
"You should take care of your health," he lectured her, just like a nanny with a naughty child. "You shouldn't walk in the night, wearing nothing. It's cold out here."
As if his worry was enough to excuse any proximity, he pulled her in his arms and hugged her to warm her up.
May was shocked by all that attention. She wasn't even sure what it was, whether his actions or the simple fact that he was worrying. She couldn't push him away because, deep down, she felt cosy at being taken care of.
When she regained her senses, she tried pushing him back. It didn't work, and she gave up because... She didn't know why. She was being a mystery to herself.
The scent of tobacco filled her nose, and she found it pleasant. She didn't like people who smoked but, at that very moment, it wasn't so bad.
It was faint, after all. And it suited his natural scent. She blamed her broken nerves for everything and just let him pull her inside, into his office.
She sat on the sofa right in the middle and waited for him to find a blanket and wrap her into it.
It was the first time she entered that room and, likely, the last. Chris would soon realise he shouldn't let his enemy into the study, where he could store secrets and strategies for the future. Even though he did offer her a job... Maybe?
He sat next to her and held her hands, rubbing her cold fingers to warm them up. She should have told him it was normal, for her, to have cold hands. But she wasn't a politician, so her ethics didn't need to be flawless.
His hands were soft just as much as his arms could be strong. And careful. So careful that she felt guilty for her strayed ethics.
He was putting so much effort into warming her up that it was admirable. Did he do his best in all of his other activities? It was no surprise he had become one of May's grandfather's worst headaches in a matter of a few years.
As her fingers became warmer, he slowed down with his careful work. His movement became less frantic, and he leaned back on the sofa. May could see his tired eyes only at that moment, under the light of the lamps.
Working all night could be troublesome for normal people, she realised. Not everyone suffered from insomnia as she did.
She opened her mouth to thank him, but she stopped when she noticed how he closed his eyes. Likely, just to rest for a few seconds.
But then, his breathing became rhythmic, regular.
In front of her, he had fallen asleep just like that. She bit her lower lip not to laugh.
Everything had happened so fast that she hadn't had time to think or react. Just like that, she found herself in a cocoon made of a blanket, on the sofa of a sleeping senator.
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