Lynette naturally didn't know about Serie's 'mom' brain storm.
What occupied her mind at this moment was a deep sense of self-reproach as she looked at Serie's hands covered in blood and the messy table.
She said in a low, apologetic voice:
"Sorry... it was my oversight. I had an urgent meeting to attend this afternoon... Next time, I will definitely arrange for others to be here with you in advance. I won't leave you alone again..."
Her voice was filled with guilt, as if Serie's nosebleed was direct evidence of her dereliction of duty.
Serie shook her head, feeling dizzy.
It seemed her internal struggle this afternoon was indeed her overthinking; Lynette wasn't no longer caring about her, but merely temporarily out, and by an unexpected coincidence, this led to Serie's wasted effort.
Knowing this, Serie felt much more at ease, and this nosebleed wasn't for nothing.
However, the dizziness from blood loss still surged like a tide, making the scene before her eyes appear somewhat blurry.
She belatedly realized that this nosebleed... probably started flowing the moment her consciousness switched to Wildfire Witch's body.
That large, glaring dark red stain on the table was silent proof.
Perhaps the blood loss muddled her mind, perhaps Lynette's gentle voice, tinged with guilt, was too confusing, or perhaps the lingering aftertaste of that 'reliable mom feeling' was still at play...
Serie's mouth seemed to detach from her brain's control, and without any deep thought, a long-brewing request, which now seemed particularly abrupt, softly slipped out with a slightly wronged, nasal tone:
"...It's... it's okay... So... Lynette... can you... take me out to play?"
The moment the last syllable fell, a cold shiver instantly shot from Serie's tailbone to the top of her head.
Her muddled brain felt as if it had been doused with ice water, instantly clearing up by more than half!
It's over! Her heart sank!
How stupid! At a time like this, to make such an obviously inappropriate request... it's practically a confession!
It couldn't be more deliberate! How could someone as sharp as Lynette not be suspicious?!
Serie could almost foresee Lynette's scrutinizing gaze and the interrogation that would follow...
However—
"Okay."
Lynette's voice didn't even have a hint of pause or hesitation.
"Once your nosebleed completely stops, I'll take you to dinner."
She even added the specific time and content, her tone as natural as if discussing the weather.
Serie: "...Huh?"
After about a few minutes, the nosebleed finally stopped completely.
The cool stream of water washed away the last trace of blood, also slightly dispelling the dizziness Serie felt from blood loss.
Lynette indeed kept her word.
This was something Serie hadn't expected at all; all her careful considerations had been superfluous.
Was this matter so simple after all?
Lynette walked towards an inconspicuous metal cabinet by the door, her fingertips quickly tapping on the keypad, then pressing onto the fingerprint recognition area.
After a faint unlocking sound, the cabinet door silently slid open, revealing various instruments neatly arranged inside.
Lynette took out a watch-like object from it, but it was actually an ankle bracelet with a minimalist design, entirely covered in a black matte coating.
"Sorry, this is a necessary procedure." Lynette returned to the bedside with the ankle bracelet, her voice steady, but deep within her calm cobalt-blue eyes, a fleeting, hard-to-catch hint of apology seemed to pass, "Even the lowest-risk anomaly must wear it to leave the containment cell."
"Don't worry, it's very light and won't hinder movement. Its main purpose is positioning." She paused, not mentioning any other functions it might contain, perhaps out of consideration, or perhaps not wanting to add to Serie's psychological burden.
Serie, of course, wasn't foolish; "positioning" was definitely the least significant function of this thing.
Serie looked at the cold, gleaming ankle bracelet, feeling inexplicably a little apprehensive, but the anticipation of going out easily overwhelmed this unease.
She obediently nodded, sat on the edge of the bed, and let her legs hang naturally.
Her slender ankles appeared particularly delicate under the light, with fair and smooth skin, faintly revealing pale blue veins.
Lynette approached. What made Serie's breathing hitch was that Lynette didn't stand to the side and look down, but rather bent slightly in front of her.
She didn't fully squat down, but rather lightly touched the ground with one knee.
This height allowed Serie to almost look directly into Lynette's focused, delicate features.
A serious man is the most handsome, but actually, a serious woman is too...
The air seemed to become subtle at this moment.
Serie could clearly smell Lynette's unique scent—the clean smell characteristic of disinfectant, mixed with a faint, elusive jasmine fragrance.
Lynette reached out her hand.
Her fingers were long and slender, with distinct knuckles.
Her cool fingertips, without warning, gently landed on the outer side of Serie's exposed left ankle.
So cold!
It was unclear whether Lynette's hand was too cold, or Serie's ankle was overly sensitive.
It made her involuntarily shiver, and her small toes instantly curled up, like startled seashells.
Lynette's fingertips seemed to pause slightly as well, but it was so quick that one might think it was an illusion.
Her cool fingers gently held Serie's left ankle, her fingertips pressing against Serie's delicate skin, feeling the faint pulsation of the blood vessels beneath the skin.
Lynette lowered her gaze, her long eyelashes casting a shadow beneath her eyes.
Her expression was so focused it was almost sacred, as if what she held in her hand was not the foot of an anomaly, but a fragile item requiring meticulous care.
The black ankle bracelet was gently slipped onto that section of her pearly white ankle.
The inside of the ankle bracelet seemed to have some kind of sensing material; the moment it touched her skin, it emitted a very faint hum, then automatically contracted, perfectly conforming to the thinnest part of her ankle, neither slipping nor feeling tight.
"All done." Lynette stood up, her voice breaking the brief silence.
She looked up, her gaze calmly meeting Serie's, "How does it feel? Any discomfort?"
Serie moved her ankle, feeling almost no weight, and no hindrance to movement.
"...No discomfort." She looked up, meeting Lynette's calm gaze, trying to suppress the unusual ripple in her heart caused by the skin contact, making her voice sound as steady as possible, even intentionally adding a touch of lighthearted teasing, "It's quite... comfortable."
"That's good." Lynette's hand released.
That tender, slender foot, like a startled white rabbit, quickly retreated into her slipper.
Lynette turned, signaling Serie to follow.
They walked out of the relatively 'familiar' containment cell and stepped into a suffocating whiteness.
This was the first time Serie had seen the scene outside the door while conscious and with her senses unrestricted.
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