The cotton cloth brushed against the edge of the wound several times, and the clumsy touch brought a sharp sting, making Serie gasp and grimace.
"Ah! I'm... I'm so sorry! I'll... I'll be gentler..."
Ilena's voice changed pitch in fright as she repeatedly apologized, her voice as faint as a mosquito's hum, tinged with a sob, and her actions became even more flustered.
With her timid demeanor, how could Serie possibly get angry? Moreover, Ilena was helping her heal.
"It's... It's fine... Hiss..." Serie gritted her teeth, cold sweat trickling down her forehead, forcing out a few words through the pain, "Don't be nervous... Just take your time..."
This was probably the longest and most awkward few minutes Serie had ever experienced.
When the last layer of bandage was finally re-wrapped around her body, both of them, as if having fought a tough battle, simultaneously let out a sigh of relief.
"The... The soup's getting cold!" Ilena practically sprang to her feet, her words coming out like an escape declaration: "You... You drink it and rest early! Make sure to recover well!"
Before she even finished speaking, she had already rushed towards her room like a gust of wind.
But just as she pulled open the door and slipped inside, she inexplicably paused, poking out half her head and one eye, seemingly wanting to sneak another look at Serie.
Unexpectedly, Serie's gaze happened to be following her as well.
Their eyes met abruptly!
"Ah—!" Ilena shrieked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, pulling her head back sharply, resulting in a crisp "bang" as she solidly hit the doorframe.
She cried out, covering her instantly reddened nose, and completely disappeared behind the door, teary-eyed, leaving only a string of suppressed whimpers.
Serie: "..."
After a moment of astonishment, a hint of uncontrollable laughter finally broke through the awkwardness and pain on her face.
What a lovely girl...
She picked up the bowl of warm borscht; the sweet and sour, rich soup, embracing the soft beetroot, slid down her throat, bringing a touch of warmth.
After eating, she subconsciously looked out the window. The deep night sky still hung low, heavy snow was falling, and the stars were sparse; it was clearly still the latter half of the night.
They haven't been able to rest well, even this late, just to take care of me...
This heavy debt of gratitude deepened the guilt in Serie's heart.
No matter what, she must find a way to repay them!
With this determination, she dragged her tired and aching body, carefully moving back to the narrow bed.
With the cover of this heavy snow, she should be able to rest for a while with some peace of mind.
However, as soon as she turned over, her gaze was drawn to an unexpected small object by the pillow—
A small bear doll, pieced together from colorful scraps of fabric, with crooked stitches, but earnestly sewn with a lopsided bow.
Serie's movements instantly froze.
The bed she was sleeping on now... couldn't possibly be Ilena's, could it?
A faint, girlish scent, with a hint of soap, lingered around her nose.
The thought that she, this "monster" of unknown origin, covered in blood, and who had almost strangled the girl, was now occupying the young girl's clean and warm bed...
Serie felt an even more intense wave of heat rush to her cheeks, so embarrassed that she pulled the thin blanket over her face, burying it completely.
That battle... it had really left her in a sorry state, and...
The scent grew stronger with her face covered...
Fortunately, the severe injuries and exhaustion were excellent sleeping pills.
Before the embarrassment and guilt could fester for long, a strong wave of dizziness and drowsiness washed over her, quickly dragging her consciousness into a dream.
Serie's consciousness returned to her main body.
However, before she could fully control the sensations of this body, a sharp pain erupted from her nose bridge.
This was immediately followed by Lynette's urgent call, barely perceptible: "Serie? Serie! Wake up! What's wrong with you?"
Serie raised her heavy head blankly, her vision still somewhat blurry.
The intense pain in her nose and a strange wet sensation made her instinctively reach up to touch it—
Her fingertips touched a slick, warm liquid with a metallic smell.
She raised her hand to her eyes in confusion.
Blinding crimson, like the most intense oil paint, instantly covered her entire palm!
Thick blood was trickling down between her fingers, dripping onto the cold ground, blooming into tiny blood flowers.
Holy cow!
Serie's pupils suddenly constricted; her sleepiness and confusion were shattered by this sudden sight of blood!
She abruptly turned her head, looking towards the source of the voice—
Lynette was standing beside her, and in those cobalt-blue eyes, always calm and composed, there was now a clear reflection of genuine concern, and...
Her own disheveled appearance.
What exactly... was going on?!
Before Serie could react, Lynette had already taken action.
There was no extra gasp, not a hint of the panic an ordinary person would show.
This A-rank doctor was reassuringly reliable; her movements were steady and strong. Her left hand had already firmly supported Serie's slightly tilted chin: "Don't tilt your head back, lower it! Lean forward!"
At the same time, her right hand pulled out a thick stack of sterile cotton pads from her pocket.
She pressed the cotton pads firmly against both sides of Serie's still-gushing nostrils, applying just the right amount of pressure.
"Breathe through your mouth, relax." Lynette's voice was low and steady, like a highly effective sedative, slowly calming Serie's panic. "It's probably a small blood vessel rupture inside your nasal cavity. Press here, and it will stop soon. Don't be nervous."
Serie was completely dazed, her brain seemingly blanked by the nosebleed, only able to stiffly follow Lynette's every instruction like a puppet on strings.
The cold compress clung to her skin, and the nosebleed seemed truly tamed by Lynette, its torrent gradually slowing.
Serie stared blankly at Lynette, who was so close: her focused expression, her decisive actions, and her warm words...
Oh my goodness, is this... a reliable adult?
Serie was also an adult, but...
Completely different!
Although there were only a few years between their ages, the sense of overall control and solid reliability that Lynette exuded...
Perhaps it was the slight dizziness and fogginess from blood loss, but an absurd thought, uncontrollably, slipped through the cracks of Serie's chaotic mind—Hmm... Confirmed by her eyes, Doctor Lynette is someone you could call 'mom.'
She was startled by this wild thought, and her remaining rationality immediately suppressed this dangerous notion.
Her nosebleed hadn't even stopped yet!
If she actually blurted out the word "mom" at this moment... The scene, just imagining Lynette's stunned reaction, would be enough to make her dig out a three-bedroom, one-living-room apartment with her toes right on the spot, then crawl in and never come out again!
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