Chapter 115: To Mr. Harris

Nathael's expression darkened as he stared intently at Maggie. A cold smirk played on his lips. "Ms. Adam's tactics seem to be escalating daily," he taunted.

Maggie's apology died unspoken, choked by his remark. He was addressing her as "Ms. Adam" again, but the tone was different.

Maggie arched an eyebrow, her smile sardonic rather than sincere. "My tactics have always been varied; Mr. Harris is hardly unfamiliar with that."

Stung by her retort, Nathael pursed his lips, glaring at her with inscrutable eyes. Undeterred, Maggie said softly, "Mr. Harris, aren't you going to change your clothes? Or would you like me to help?"

A half-smile played on her lips, but unlike her usual indifference, a hint of annoyance betrayed her alertness. A flight attendant quickly assisted Nathael. He thanked her and stood, his expression somber.

A few minutes later, he returned in a white shirt and black trousers, a casual replacement for his suit. He looked more relaxed. Maggie smacked her lips, still wearing her sunglasses, as if oblivious to his return.

A fair, slender hand offered her a paper bag. Maggie paused, her gaze following the hand to Nathael's face. What is this? Is this a gift?

"Ms. Adam doesn't seem inclined to take responsibility," Nathael said in a low voice, placing the bag on the table.

Maggie smiled and asked, "What responsibility should I take?"

Nathael scoffed coldly. "Use your brain." He returned to his book.

Maggie bit her lip, peering inside the bag to find his freshly changed clothes neatly folded. After a while, she sighed and placed the bag at her feet—an acceptance of responsibility.

However, she hadn't realized Nathael might lack a change of clothes. Clearly, he was deliberately making things difficult.

After a restful sleep and meal, Maggie found herself bored. Nathael's presence made watching a movie impossible. Staring out the window, she took out her sketchbook and began sketching designs, working for over two hours until her neck and shoulders ached. She glanced at Nathael. He was still reading; the book was noticeably thinner than when they boarded. Impressed by his focus, she sketched a rough outline of him.

Perhaps designers possessed innate drawing talent. Though not a serious attempt, the sketch quickly captured Nathael's essence, if not his exact likeness. It wasn't particularly detailed, but the resemblance was undeniable. Adding a few more strokes, she began to write, soon filling the page with scribbles.

Nathael heard the sound of tearing paper. Maggie remained calm as she tore out a page, folding it. Nathael glanced over to meet her concerned gaze. She softened her expression, offering a rare hint of apology and tenderness. "Mr. Harris, did I disturb you?" she asked patiently.

Nathael swallowed, avoiding her gaze, expecting no good intentions. Maggie raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She folded the paper several more times.

Nathael ostensibly focused on his book, but covertly watched her. Sensing his gaze, Maggie tore off another piece of paper, folding it into an envelope. She slipped the drawing inside. The words "To Mr. Harris" appeared on the front.

Nathael caught sight of "Harris," piqued by his interest. It's for me? Could this woman have a conscience after all?

Surprisingly, Maggie slowly set the letter aside, turning on the TV and choosing a movie. The one unable to focus on their task shouldn't be her.

Nathael waited fifteen minutes, but Maggie showed no sign of giving him the letter. He closed his book, ordered coffee, and made some noise. Maggie didn't even glance his way, completely engrossed in the movie. Nathael frowned, a little annoyed.

Another fifteen minutes passed. Maggie remained glued to the screen. Nathael finished his coffee. Isn't it for me? Why hasn't she given it to me yet?

His gaze fell on the envelope, just beyond his reach, occasionally visible beneath Maggie's arm. The words "Mr. Harris" taunted him. Even knowing it might be another of her schemes, he couldn't control his yearning for her.

Their eyes met, and she fell into a daze. She wore a comfortable, loose yellow dress. Her hair was casually tied to one side, a little messy from her nap. In the dim cabin light, her face seemed fair, aloof, yet gentle. A funny scene in the movie brought a laugh to her eyes, brightening her usually indifferent face. Nathael forced himself to look away, knowing he shouldn't indulge.

He had previously changed flights and seats with Alex's help. He had lost control and knew he shouldn't continue.

All was quiet. After a couple more short naps, the plane began to land. Maggie gathered her things, glancing at Nathael. His brow was slightly furrowed, his face pale and detached, likely from the landing. Maggie's throat tightened. She wanted to ask if he was still angry.

She knew, without asking, that he was. Sigh. Men are so hard to please. Nathael is even harder.

The final lines ("Send Gin," "20," "MDU," etc.) appear to be unrelated notes and should be removed.