The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 8
Chapter 8
“Yes. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“But it seems strange…”
I wasn’t usually one to argue, but with him, the questions kept coming. He narrowed his eyes at me. He wasn’t that intimidating, even with that look, especially since we were the same height.
He stared at me for a moment, then blurted out, “About what you asked earlier…”
“…What?”
“You wanted to be friends, right? Fine. Let’s be friends.”
“What?”
“Let’s be friends.”
He wanted to be friends with me? After everything he’d heard? He wouldn’t have offered so readily if he knew.
‘But he must have heard. Is he teasing me?’ His eyes, however, lacked the malicious glint of Lane and Lizzy’s. And he had genuinely seemed concerned when I was drenched. My apprehension must have shown, because he shrugged.
“Don’t you want to be friends?”
“No, I mean, yes.”
I didn’t want him to think I didn’t want to be friends, so I quickly corrected myself. He smiled slightly.
“So, we’re friends now,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Really? Did I actually have a friend?
He went on, “Since we’re friends, we should use our first names. What’s yours?”
“Me? My name… My name is…”
It was the first time since I was seven that someone had asked for my name. My suspicion, worry, and fear melted away.
‘What is my name?’ I finally remembered, whispering, “I… I’m Ailee… Ailee Lizziana.”
Daykin’s face lit up. “Call me Kin. I don’t… have a last name.”
“Kin…!”
Kin reached out to shake my hand, then hesitated, noticing the dirt and grime covering his own. He’d been trying to act so grown-up, but this small gesture betrayed his youth. I found it endearing.
Before he could pull back, I grabbed his hand. Kin! It suited him. I giggled, repeating his name over and over.
“Kin.”
“What?”
“Kin…”
Was it my imagination, or did his face flush a little each time I said it? Was he annoyed? Even if he was, I couldn’t stop.
He was my first friend! How could I?
‘But if Kin doesn’t like it, I should stop.’ I said his name one last time, loudly.
“Kin!”
“…You’re going to wear my name out.”
Names don’t wear out.
Despite his grumbling, I couldn’t stop smiling. Kin was kind. I could see it in his clear eyes.
“I think I really like you,” I murmured, looking at him.
“You… you shouldn’t say things like that so easily… Never mind.”
But you said I could. Kin seemed shy.
He started to say, then stopped when our eyes met, quickly looking away. Did he dislike it that much? Even though he’d said it was okay?
Kin buried his face in his hands and sighed. After a long moment, he looked up. Covered in dirt and dust, he wasn’t exactly handsome, but to me, he was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.
More beautiful than the impeccably dressed twins, my mother, father, or grandmother.
Kin hesitated, looking at me. He seemed to have something to say.
“Are you really okay? You should change out of those wet clothes. Stop smiling like a fool.”
“Oh.”
I realized then that I was completely soaked. My shoulder-length hair clung to my face and neck, and my thin ivory dress was plastered to my skin. Thankfully, the fabric was thick enough that it wasn’t see-through, despite being white. That would have been mortifying.
I retrieved a towel and fresh clothes from the wardrobe. I was used to changing by myself. Before heading to the bathroom, I looked at Kin.
“Don’t go anywhere while I change.”
“I won’t.”
A few minutes later, I emerged, dressed in dry clothes. Kin stood awkwardly by a chair. He glanced at me and jerked his chin towards it.
“Sit. I’ll dry your hair.”
“With those dirty hands?”
“Dusty cups, muddy hands…”
Daykin grumbled. But, seemingly aware of his own grime, he disappeared into the bathroom to wash up, emerging moments later with clean hands.
I watched him, then said, “You don’t have to dry my hair.”
“You’re dripping like a drowned rat and you say that? You look exhausted. I’m doing it because you need help, so just sit still and let me.”
‘Sit still and let me help you.’
I’d often been told to sit still, but never to accept help so directly. He was actually helping me. A warmth spread through my palms. Obeying Daykin, I sat down on the chair.
“Where are the towels?”
“Bottom drawer of the wardrobe over there.”
I knew the location instinctively. Living alone, dressing alone, eating alone—it required knowing where everything was.
Daykin took a position behind me. A towel settled gently over my head. A soft, rhythmic patting began, an attempt to absorb the moisture.
‘I could do this better myself.’
I was puzzled by Daykin’s clumsy technique. He had no surname, so I assumed he was a commoner, and commoners were usually adept at such tasks. Apparently, not all commoners were nimble-fingered and skilled. Daykin’s hair-drying skills were far from impressive.
Still, I didn’t scold him.
‘He’d just get annoyed and tell me to do it myself.’
Despite his awkwardness, I found a certain charm in his rough touch. So careful, it was hard to tell if he was drying or massaging my hair. The gentle pressure of his small hands felt soothing.
I swung my feet back and forth, a small giggle escaping my lips. Grandmother always used to click her tongue at my carefree laughter, calling it frivolous. What if Daykin thought the same?
Despite the fleeting worry, I couldn’t contain my happiness. Even if the world ended right then, I wouldn’t have minded.
