Henry Sullivan felt her face resting against his back. He pursed his lips; for once, she was finally quiet.
Arriving in town, Ivy Miller got off the bike and handed him her jacket, "Uncle, are you cold?"
"Not really," though the wind after the rain was indeed quite biting.
"Go inside to send your parcel; I’ll wait for you here."
"Okay," Ivy Miller carried the plastic bag into the parcel station, which was essentially a little convenience store that also handled shipping and receiving.
Seeing that she didn’t come out for a while, Henry Sullivan decided to go in as well.
By this time, sending off three parcels should have been done.
But once inside, he saw that Miss Ivy wasn’t sending parcels at all; she was picking out snacks.
Upon seeing him come in, Ivy Miller waved her hand and called out, "Uncle, Uncle, come here quickly. See if there’s anything you want to eat; I’ll buy it for you."
"I don’t eat snacks."
Ivy Miller pouted, feeling disappointed. Enjoying snacks together while watching a movie at night was a kind of pleasure.
Her arms were full, and after buying the snacks and paying for them, she left the convenience store with the bag.
"You bought so many junk snacks. Can you finish eating them all?"
"Definitely can’t finish them in one day. Can I spread them out over three days?
It’s not something you have to finish all at once."
He got back on the motorcycle and handed her the jacket once more.
She waved her hand, "No need; I’ll block the wind with the snacks. That’s how they do it in dramas.
Except they’re usually riding bicycles."
Henry Sullivan couldn’t be bothered with her and started the motorcycle to take her away.
Back in the village, Henry Sullivan filled up the tank for the villager who lent him the motorcycle, leaving a hundred bucks when returning it.
Only then did Ivy Miller realize why the villagers were so happy when lending him the motorcycle.
Turns out, borrowing the bike wasn’t for free.
They walked towards the military base, the roads in the countryside were all muddy. As they walked, she made little hissing sounds, occasionally taking two big steps and sometimes dodging the puddles.
Seeing her slow pace while carrying things, Henry Sullivan straightforwardly took the bag from her. Follow current novᴇls on NovєlFіre.net
Ivy Miller giggled, "Uncle, you’re so considerate."
"You better keep your mouth shut."
Ivy Miller pouted, "Then let me say one more thing: In drama series, the male lead would carry the female lead in such situations. Uncle, carry me."
"My shoes are all dirty, and they’re new shoes."
Ivy Miller halted, pouted, and gave him a cute look, but he didn’t even turn his head, striding ahead.
She really felt she had met her match, helplessly looking at her proud, now-dirty white shoes, feeling sorry, "Darlings, sorry your mommy made you suffer, I’ll give you a good bath when we’re back."
Hearing her mumbling, Henry Sullivan smiled silently.
This woman is truly odd, even able to chat with shoes.
Upon entering the base, he handed her the snacks, "Go back on your own."
"Going back to the office to work."
She looked at him, full of disappointment, "Uncle, do you really dislike me so much?
I’m allowing you to be honest, aren’t you even a little happy I came here?"
Seeing her pathetic look, Henry Sullivan averted his gaze, "Why think about this stuff?
Enough, stop talking, go back. I’ll bring you lunch later."
"Then will you come back and eat with me? I don’t want to eat alone."
Ivy Miller was even more disappointed.
"I’ll come back and eat with you."