Chapter Nine

Geneva cleaned up the mess she'd made of the flowers and candles. It was faster now than the previous night she spent setting them.

Then, she silently made her way back into the bedroom and to the bathroom. It's better to finish all these affairs while he is his strange self, she muttered to herself.

She was through in less than ten minutes, made it to the kitchen and prepared a breakfast of milk and toast in another ten.

As she set them in the little space meant for dining in the small kitchen, she glanced again at him.

Noting that Nicholas was still in that same position like a statue, she felt an odd feeling which she would like to dismissively call pity, prick her heart, so she walked to him.

Wiping her hands on her jean skirt to heat them up, Geneva lightly touched the cold body.

Goosebumps that bore standing hairs traveled from the tip of the finger that she had nudged his shoulder with and down to her toes.

Sad blue orbs met her dark ones and she shivered from its intensity.