"Do you think she knows?"
"I'm certain she knows."
"So she knows."
"Knows what?"
"Oh, ignore that. Just feed me already." Dante squinted his eyes, scanning Anastasia's figure as she closed the distance with him.
Her steps were slow, her eyes moved slowly, and her smile looked a bit carefree.
When she started feeding him the bread, she used only two fingers to hold it, as though using her whole hand wasn't worth it.
"I think her laziness is becoming natural to her." Dante whispered to Aza, ignoring the fact that Anastasia was hearing him.
Around two weeks — or 14 meals, to be precise — had passed since he had given her the advice to care more about herself and stop feeding him.
And did she listen?
No!
Well, not completely. She really stopped caring too much about strangers, but she didn't consider him just a stranger.
