After a moment of silence, Lucas Quinn noticed her face was still very cold. As they waited for the green light at the intersection, with the car paused, he licked his lips and glanced to the side.
"Charlotte Allison..."
The person with a constantly stern face looked at him: "Hm?"
"I'm thirsty," Lucas Quinn said softly.
Charlotte Allison saw him with his head lowered, meek like a little puppy that had done something wrong. Her cold expression finally softened. She retrieved a box of drink from the storage drawer, inserted a straw, and held it to his lips.
Lucas Quinn watched as her slender fingers handed the drink to him, his eyes flickered, and he lowered his head to drink eagerly.
He wasn't exactly sure what the flavor was; he only remembered those slender hands and the faint fragrance belonging to Charlotte Allison.
Hospital.
The doctor was tending to Lucas Quinn's wound under Charlotte Allison's icy gaze.
Lucas Quinn's wound wasn't severe, just bled a lot.
