Episode 5
1617 Words
The fabric of their clothing brushes softly against each other, the subtle rustling sounds muffled by the rain, and the nascent intimacy escapes Emma's notice.
She huddles her head, unsure of what to do.
When she meets Oliver in the afternoon, she isn’t extravagantly dressed, but at least she wears a skirt paired with a ladylike coat and has applied a touch of makeup.
Now, she wears coral fleece pajamas under her down jacket, adorned with cartoon patterns. Her feet are clad in boots, her hair hastily tied into a messy bun, and her face, pale from staying up late, lacks any color on her lips.
In summary... she is disheveled.
The umbrella is small, and he subtly tilts it toward her.
But the wind is too strong, and the rain slants in, causing Emma to instinctively shrink inward, bumping into his arm. Before she can apologize, she stumbles and lets out a startled gasp.
Oliver's attention remains fixed on her, and with swift reflexes, he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close into his embrace.
Emma is lifted off her feet by his single hand, leaving her dangling in the air.
Her body presses tightly against his, feeling the strength hidden in his arms.
Never having been so intimate with a man before, she becomes embarrassed and at a loss.
"There's a low step here."
As they descend to the flat ground, he gently sets her down.
Oliver glances back at the spot where she almost stumbled, then looks at her. Noticing her hands tightly gripping his shirt, she awkwardly releases her hold and says sheepishly, "I'm... sorry."
But Oliver doesn’t immediately let her go; instead, he chivalrously places his hand behind her, fisting it, without any hint of intimacy.
"Let's go," he says, his voice clear and cool, yet warmer than the winter breeze, making her unconsciously want to draw closer.
Perhaps as they draw nearer, the scent emanating from him envelops her, a subtle fragrance, not overpowering, most likely from the laundry detergent he regularly uses.
They arrive at the emergency building.
She thanks him, and Oliver smiles, saying it’s nothing, just a small favor.
Emma takes her lab test results to find a doctor for further assessment of her father's condition.
Exiting the consultation room, she hesitates, wondering if Oliver has already left. She has forgotten to properly bid him farewell earlier.
As she approaches the main entrance, she ponders over who in her contact list might have Oliver’s contact information.
Just as she reaches the lobby, the sound of an ambulance stopping outside catches her attention, and medical staff rush in, accompanying a patient.
A man at the front shouts, "Where's the doctor? Why isn’t anyone here to receive us?"
Emma sees a doctor in a white coat performing CPR on the stretcher being brought in.
It seems he has been doing it for some time, showing signs of exhaustion, panting heavily.
The hospital is unusually crowded tonight, and no one responds to the man's cries. Patients move aside, startled by the bright red blood stains on the sheets.
The extensive bleeding indicates a car accident.
A flurry of footsteps approaches, and she turns to see them.
Oliver strides toward the entrance, swiftly buttoning up his white coat with his long fingers. His eyes scan the surroundings sharply before he puts on a mask and instructs the nurse following him, "Call the anesthesiologist. Prepare Operating Room 3."
The nurse nods frantically and rushes off to carry out his orders.
Oliver halts the medical staff performing CPR and says, "I’ll take it."
The relieved staff member quickly steps aside, and Oliver
Kneeling by the bedside, he quickly takes over, not forgetting to inquire about the patient’s vital signs.
The medical staff grows less panicky, and the surrounding patients also let out a sigh of relief.
Throughout the entire process, Oliver remains calm and unruffled, handling the emergency with the same ease as when he had held an umbrella for her in the downpour earlier.
Not wanting to disturb Oliver’s work, Emma returns to her father’s ward.
Emma leaves the tense and bustling surgical area quietly, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
Recalling Oliver’s steadfast and calm demeanor earlier, she can’t help but admire him secretly. In that critical moment, he seems like a natural leader, using his slender hands not only to save the patient’s life but also to stabilize everyone’s emotions.
Returning to her father’s ward, Emma finds him awake, gazing at her with weak yet loving eyes. She hurries forward, takes his hand, and whispers softly, "How are you feeling?"
Her father smiles weakly, his face still pale but his eyes full of reassurance. "Much better. Seeing you’re okay puts my mind at ease. Emma, was that doctor your friend? He’s really impressive."
Emma nods, feeling a warm current surge through her heart. "Yes, his name is Oliver."
Relaxing a bit, Emma leaves her father’s ward and thinks of Oliver.
The way he had sheltered her from the rain and handled the emergency with such composure reminds her of how deeply he had impressed her. She sheds the gloom of the night, and a subtle feeling emerges from the depths of her heart.
Such an Oliver
It’s hard not to be moved.
Emma acknowledges her feelings, smiling ruefully to herself.
Wondering what is happening to her.
She thinks she is indifferent to all men, for she can truly resist romantic feelings by simply telling herself not to fall in love.
Somewhat aloof about romance, she finds herself harboring unformed yet intense thoughts about Oliver.
"Feeling better? Would you like to rest in my lounge for a while?"
A male voice comes from above, and Emma looks up sharply.
Her gaze meets his intense eyes, and she almost loses herself in them again.
"Didn’t you go to the operating room?" Emma asks.
Oliver understands that she is making an excuse to send him away.
Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, he can’t bear to watch her go through it alone. He sticks to his inner thought and says, "I only came back to get the materials for tomorrow’s surgery. I just helped with some basic treatment because the situation was urgent earlier."
Having said that, there seems to be no reason to refuse.
Emma nods.
It is a sign of agreement.
She stammers, "Is that... person okay?"
Remembering he had been performing CPR.
Oliver’s lips curve into a smile tinged with ambiguity.
"Of course they’re fine."
Emma’s mind automatically completes the sentence.
With me around, of course, everything will be fine.
If someone else had this attitude, she would definitely think that person is so narcissistic it’s unbearable.
But Oliver is not annoying when he says this. He is knowledgeable, qualified, and capable enough to say so.
Although a doctor cannot give a patient a 100% guarantee that the surgery will be successfully completed, a doctor’s confidence in their profession can bring a strong sense of security to the patient.
Oliver is like this at the moment.
His absolute professional strength gives him the confidence to pull that person back from the grasp of death.
Emma lowers her eyes.
The man indeed has a fatal attraction to her.
His personal charm and professional knowledge deeply attract her.
Anyone who has been with him for a long time will unconsciously worship him.
Thinking about it.
Emma discards the messy guesses in her mind.
In a closed space, only she and he face each other, suddenly becoming at a loss.
She stammers, "Then... I’ll sleep for two hours, and you wake me up after two hours."
After speaking, she looks at him.
Oliver is stunned for a moment.
Looking through the clear and bright eyes of the woman in front of him, it seems to recall something from a long time ago.
In the basketball game ten years ago, she quietly approaches him and says "come on."
He turns his head and is surprised by the enlarged appearance of the girl.
The girl’s face is clean and not made up, with the fresh breath of a fifteen-year-old girl, her nose slightly moving, her eyelashes trembling, and there is an extremely light brown mole on the right side of her eye, like a tear mole, but not as charming as others on the corner of the eye, but more like a trace left by God because of pity, after kissing this pair of watery and transparent eyes. In short, it is unspeakably good-looking, adding a bit of playfulness to her gentle temperament.
He thinks of the white roses that grew out of the school wall, the petals layered upon layers, the stamens shyly drooping, containing dew, and shining dazzlingly in the sunlight.
That scene, he has often dreamed of in the past ten years.
It is a sign of heart movement.
After a decade apart.
The words have changed, but the person speaking is still the girl he admired in his dreams.
His smile gradually grows, and he softly agrees.
Emma can’t see through the fleeting ambiguity in his eyes, and she buries her head on the hospital bed, not daring to look at him.
Looking back later, Emma thinks she must have been made foolish by lack of sleep. They are not very familiar with each other, and she could have politely refused him, but somehow she agreed.
Now, Emma only feels sleepy.
She, who
usually suffers from insomnia, has such strong sleepiness that she can’t even lift her eyelids.
Perhaps it is because this man, with an inexplicable sense of security, is sitting beside her.
It may also be because of the nightmare a few minutes ago.
- Writer
