Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime

Those terrifying tactics of his were nothing more than the traces left by those who had once tortured him.

Purple Summers’ tears slid along her eyelids, dampening the temples before quickly disappearing.

The wetness on her face made it itch, and she buried her face in Alexander Summers’ shirt to rub it off.

With amusement, Alexander asked her, “What are you rubbing against?”

Purple deliberately grossed him out, responding in a muffled voice, “Rubbing snot.”

Alexander, as expected, scolded her, “Gross!”

Even though he scolded her, his body didn’t move; he let her lay on top of him.

Purple, her face against his chest, rubbed it a couple more times, and said with a nasal voice, “No one’s as gross as you; you’re the grossest.”

Alexander laughed helplessly, “Alright, alright, I’m the grossest…”

The two of them lay quietly together.

He gently stroked her long hair, cool and silky like satin, dark and dense like ink, a length of it resting in the palm of his hand before slipping through his fingers, inexplicably causing his heart to flutter.

“Purple, I’m very happy today,” he said in a low voice.

“…Mmm,” Purple’s voice was languid.

“You suggesting ideas for me means you care about me,” Alexander’s voice was low and mellow, carrying a comfortable smile, “Was it you who pointed out Flynn Howard’s shoe problem in the crowd? Purple, you’re always afraid of being implicated by me, yet today you couldn’t help speaking up for me in front of so many, you have me in your heart, don’t you?”

Purple did not answer.

“Purple?” Alexander called her softly.

“Alexander… stop it…” she mumbled with her eyes closed.

Alexander fell silent.

She had fallen asleep atop him.

Alexander was silent for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh, adjusting his position slightly before lying down to sleep with Purple.

To say he slept was an overstatement; it was more of a light nap.

With Elder Master Howard having encountered trouble at his estate, how could he sleep soundly here?

Alexander lay with Purple for a quarter of an hour, then rose and left the room. Before leaving, he carefully placed a pillow in Purple’s arms, so she wouldn’t reach for him in her dreams.

The sensation was a bit delicate, a mixture of pride that Purple couldn’t do without him and jealousy for the pillow in her arms.

Alexander sighed inwardly, feeling it was a pity he couldn’t always keep Purple tucked in his pocket.

The door closed gently, and the girl on the bed slept soundly.

She had a dream.

In the dream, it was her high school days.

From a young age, she had been diligent in her studies; she might not have been exceptionally clever, but because her world was consumed with studying single-mindedly, her grades were always far above those of her peers.

Due to her academic prowess, she skipped grades twice. In high school, she was the youngest in her class. The age difference made it difficult for her to talk to the other girls and, without friends, she was gradually isolated.

The girls found her boring, while the boys liked her, thinking she was cool. They mistook her silence for indifference and aloofness and even gave her the nickname “Ice Queen,” which only made the girls loathe her more.

She didn’t care about any of this, continuing to focus on her studies, ignoring the constant stream of suitors, not responding to any of them.

In fact, she didn’t even know how to respond.

Later, a gang of delinquents at school started to target her, among them a troublesome boy who doggedly pursued her with daily offerings of flowers and gifts, vowing to win her over, and who would wait to ambush her at the school gates after classes.

One day after school, the boy ran towards her, excitedly holding flowers. She finally had enough and asked, “What exactly do you want?”