Chapter 385: Really Good-Looking
Nathael remained silent for what felt like an eternity, offering no reply. Maggie wondered if he had fallen asleep, then noticed his slender fingers slowly reaching for a cotton swab and disinfectant. Grinning, she remarked, "I'll take that as a yes."
"Sure," Nathael replied, uncertain about the significance of this budding friendship. He seemed unsure. But Maggie looked pleased.
Taking the cotton swab and disinfectant, Maggie offered, "Let me help."
Nathael hesitated, but she had already taken them, so he simply turned away without comment.
Moonlight filtered into the cramped storage room, casting a silvery glow. Dust motes danced in the air as Nathael sat with his back to Maggie.
Maggie carefully tended to his wounds, making do with the limited cotton swabs. Thankfully, she treated all his injuries. However, one spot on his back was particularly troublesome; oozing pus and blood, it was visibly swollen.
After a brief silence, Maggie cautiously probed the area with a cotton swab. Nathael tensed, finding this more painful than his other injuries.
Without waiting for his reaction, Maggie leaned in and said, "This spot is swollen and filled with pus. Should I open it and drain the blood? It would hurt a lot, though." She knew leaving it untreated could lead to complications.
Without hesitation, Nathael produced a dagger, heated its blade with a lighter, and handed it to Maggie, saying, "Use this."
Maggie was taken aback. "You have a knife? Didn't the orphanage staff search you upon arrival? This is prohibited."
Nathael didn't respond, showing no intention of explaining. Maggie didn't press the issue; her focus shifted to the wound, her throat tightening with nervousness. Despite her anxiety, she remained steady.
She carefully opened the infected wound. Nathael remained watchful, but the pain was less than he expected, almost making him wonder if she had even started. "Can't bring yourself to do it?" he asked, turning his head.
But instantly, Maggie's lips covered the wound as she sucked out the pus and blood.
Chapter 385: Really Good-Looking
Nathael stiffened, his mind going blank. In the quiet room, he felt the warmth of her lips, occasionally sensing her breath on his skin. Unable to see, Nathael turned away, his cheeks flushing uncontrollably. He wasn't naive, but no girl had ever been this close. Whether it was the intimacy or a stranger's intrusion into his personal space, Nathael's ears turned red involuntarily. Maggie, however, didn't think much of it. This method was commonplace in the orphanage; most children used it, so it didn't faze her.
The smell of pus and blood, however, was unpleasant. Maggie spat out the pus, rinsing her mouth several times with cold water. Then she disinfected the wound again, using the remaining medicine powder on the more severe areas.
With the back wounds treated, only the facial bruises and cuts remained. Nathael could manage the front, so Maggie only helped with some facial cuts. She half-knelt before him, his height requiring it. A faint fragrance, mixed with the sweetness of fruity candy, emanated from her.
Maggie looked at his handsome face and couldn't help but complain, "They really didn't hold back."
Nathael remained silent, letting her work quietly. A slender, blood-streaked wound marred his cheek. Maggie inexplicably raised her hand, wanting to move his hair.
Sensing her movement, Nathael looked up, but didn't stop her. Their eyes met. Underneath his hair, his deep, narrow phoenix eyes were strikingly attractive.
Maggie was stunned. The boy seemed like the most expensive, fragile sculpture, exuding an indescribable noble beauty. His features were sharp and defined, his eyes deep and intense, yet with a hint of lazy indolence.
In that moment, Maggie wasn't sure what she was thinking. She just thought he was really good-looking, and she always liked beautiful things.
"Aren't you going to sleep?" Nathael finally asked. The dormitory would be locked late at night. Though newly arrived, he understood the rules. Maggie snapped out of her thoughts, glancing toward the door. "It's already too late," she said nonchalantly.
Nathael fell silent.
"But later, I can climb back through the window. I have a partner who will help. But I have to wait until everyone's asleep," Maggie explained softly.
"Once your wounds are dry, you can put on clothes. I got you a piece of someone else's clothing. It should keep you warm," Maggie said, touching a bomber jacket. It wasn't ideal, but she had always wanted one herself. Unfortunately, someone else had taken the last one.
She didn't know how much longer she would stay at the orphanage. Every prospective adoptive family backed out for some reason. Two years had passed, and while life wasn't as hard, everything still felt bleak and hopeless.
Pulling herself from her grim thoughts, Maggie looked at his torn white shirt. She rummaged in her pockets, pulling out a small roll of white thread. "Let me try to sew it for you. But I'm not very good," she admitted.
She'd learned by imitation, and her first attempt at stitching the damaged area was a haphazard, tangled mess around the chest. Nathael tolerated it for a while, but couldn't wear it like that. He took the needle and thread, unraveled her work, and resewed it.
Maggie watched intently. Despite his injured fingers, his movements were long and elegant. Each stitch perfectly aligned, transforming the tattered shirt. It was quick, efficient work.
Maggie bit her lip. "I wish you had come here earlier," she murmured.
Nathael looked up, seeing the regret in her eyes.
"I had a beautiful skirt, but someone ruined it," she continued. "I tried to sew it, but I couldn't fix it. I threw it away a few days ago." She didn't understand her own fastidious nature. Despite the orphanage's conditions, she couldn't stand old, dirty, or messy things. She always tried to look beautiful and presentable, like a peacock out of place.