Chapter 5: Wherever I Want

Camian lifted me up and rubbed my arm that convulsed faintly. His hand wrapped around me. Completely.

I sighed.

I don’t have much appetite, no keen interest to eat, but I forced myself. I’d eat proper meals daily and exercise regularly, yet this cursed body of mine could only run on the bare minimum to survive.

“I got you,” Camian said.

My tense muscles relaxed while my head spun from dizziness. I leaned my forehead against Camian’s chest and collected my breath. Slowly.

Camian rubbed my arm and calmly whispered, “Want me to hug you?”

“It’s fine. You were the one who made me fall just then, you know?”

I pushed my head deeper into his chest before pushing him away and laid down on the bench Camian liked to sit in. I sat down there the same way he did, his long legs stretched beyond the length of the bench, but for me, my ankles reached only the end of the bench.

“Let’s go home and rest. Staying in this windy weather after sweating that much will have you catching a cold.”

He picked up the potatoes that spilled out of the basket and gently placed it down next to me.

He rapped on my stomach. “Come on.”

The gentle wind sweeping my hair back and forth felt nice. It was a perfect place to fall asleep, but the thought of catching a cold had my eyes wide open. My immune system was paper-thin and easy to catch a whiff of a virus no matter how light. I’d drown in painful fever were that to happen.

I stretched my hand out and he grabbed my hand and the back of my neck to lift me up.

We went home, together.

***

As I made a grab for the doorknob, an uneasy feeling crawled up my skin. I turned around and looked at Camian. We’re it the usual, he’d have followed me around like a shadow or a stick trying to sneak a touch of my skin.

It was strange.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

The sun was nearly setting as the sky became a red-tinted watercolor paint. Under the setting afternoon sky, Camian’s red eyes gave an odd glow.

“I’ll need to go to Mr. Corner’s farm for a while. His fence broke again.”

Camian straightened his arms and stretched it out. His tight-fitted shirt was pulled up.

Pop! Pop!

The buttons of his shirt popped out and his navy blue shirt was ripped open, showing his hard and massive chest pecs.

“Ah…”

He picked up the fallen button on the ground and ruffled his hair roughly.

“I’ll just sew these on before I go,” he said.

I could not help but lick my lips at the… sight.

“Then wait for me. I’ll go wash up and come with you.”

“No. It’ll get colder once the sun sets.”

“If I wear three, no, four layers, it should be fine. I want to see how much the baby goats have grown as well. It’s been a long time.”

Camian did not answer and walked to where I stood. He grabbed the same doorknob I was holding onto and pulled it open.

After fifteen years with him, I knew his silence was of disapproval. I sighed and walked in, pretending that I’d never spoken those last words.

Instead, I said, “I’m going as well, okay? Actually, I will go with and without your permission. Actually, I don’t need your permission. I can go wherever I want.”

I looked at him and gauged for his reaction, but he kept his mouth shut and diligently sewed the buttons back onto his shirt.

“Hmph. What a stern guy.”

I whacked his naked back. It made a loud clap. His hardback muscles twitched. Meanwhile, Camian put the shirt he was working on, turned around, and lifted me up. I naturally curled my arms around his neck for support.

“Let me down, okay?”

“…Stop running around the house with your sweaty body and go wash yourself.”

He put me down and patted my cheek before leaving, slamming the door behind him. I wondered if I smelled that much. Did I? I sniffed my armpit. It gave off a faint smell of sweat.

“…I guess I should wash myself…”

After washing myself clean, I wore several layers of clothes. Though wrapped in many layers, it felt freezing cold once I stepped foot out of the bathroom. My teeth chattered and I quickly scurried to the bedroom.

Crawling inside the warmth of the blanket, I found a memo note.