Thorns [6]
Hello to all my readers who have been checking back for updates! :) I'm really sorry for ditching this story for so long, I didn't expect many people to follow it so I didn't continue writing on buzzle. Plus I've been really busy with exams and such :X Anyway, enjoy this next chapter! I'll try to make it as long as I can :)
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A man stepped into the room, a hat pulled down low over his face. He coughed slightly, and closed the door behind him, replacing his hand in his pocket.
I cringed in bed. I did not know how to react. Who was he? Did he come with goodwill or bad intentions? Was he here to harm me? I tightened my grip around the bed handle on the sides of the bed and hoisted myself up slowly as he advanced.
He did not seem in any hurry to explain his business here. He brushed the chair by the bed and sat down. He raised his head and removed the hat, revealing a face telling of old age, yet eyes still hidden behind dark glasses. He was balding, the hair left all white. His forehead creased with wrinkles, like a crumpled piece of paper, used and worn out.
"Good morning, Terine."
His voice was crisp and clear, it sliced through the stale air in the ward. His gaze seemed to pierce through the glasses, like he was staring straight at me, but I could never be sure. He did not move, waiting silently for my reply. I nodded my head in consent of hearing the greeting.
"That's impolite."
His tone had changed to a more gruff one.
"Good morning, Sir."
I whispered back in return. His voice scared me, but indeed I had been impolite. He raised his hand and scratched his cheek. I noticed a scar, a red line so fine I would not have seen it if his hand had not drawn attention to it. It was fine, but it was long. It seemed as if his cheek had been sliced off, then sewn back again.
Then he continued, with something that I found strange, yet intrigued me at the same time.
"I have certain deals to discuss with you."
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A man stepped into the room, a hat pulled down low over his face. He coughed slightly, and closed the door behind him, replacing his hand in his pocket.
I cringed in bed. I did not know how to react. Who was he? Did he come with goodwill or bad intentions? Was he here to harm me? I tightened my grip around the bed handle on the sides of the bed and hoisted myself up slowly as he advanced.
He did not seem in any hurry to explain his business here. He brushed the chair by the bed and sat down. He raised his head and removed the hat, revealing a face telling of old age, yet eyes still hidden behind dark glasses. He was balding, the hair left all white. His forehead creased with wrinkles, like a crumpled piece of paper, used and worn out.
"Good morning, Terine."
His voice was crisp and clear, it sliced through the stale air in the ward. His gaze seemed to pierce through the glasses, like he was staring straight at me, but I could never be sure. He did not move, waiting silently for my reply. I nodded my head in consent of hearing the greeting.
"That's impolite."
His tone had changed to a more gruff one.
"Good morning, Sir."
I whispered back in return. His voice scared me, but indeed I had been impolite. He raised his hand and scratched his cheek. I noticed a scar, a red line so fine I would not have seen it if his hand had not drawn attention to it. It was fine, but it was long. It seemed as if his cheek had been sliced off, then sewn back again.
Then he continued, with something that I found strange, yet intrigued me at the same time.
"I have certain deals to discuss with you."
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