When he left, Mia Ginger found it even harder to bear.
Koa Jackson lowered his eyes to scrutinize her, and she silently lowered her head again.
It seemed like a long time passed before she heard Koa Jackson let out an indistinct sigh, and then, a slight cooling sensation came from her burning neck.
Koa Jackson was very close to her, his fingertips touching her wound as he asked softly, "Does it hurt?"
Her skin was pale and very sensitive, scratched by nails, swelling on both sides and turning red, looking rather serious.
Mia Ginger felt stiff.
It was as if her hands were not her own, her feet were not her own, her neck stiffened, and it felt like he had cast a spell on her, freezing her heartbeat and rendering her immobile.
Koa Jackson’s fingers were icy cold.
In the sweltering summer, the air conditioning inside could not compare to the coolness of his fingertips.
Slowly melting on her burning, painful skin, her wound stopped hurting, and even the area around the wound seemed to be comforted.
Mia Ginger’s heart gradually started beating again, yet she felt strangely calm.
Her porcelain-like fair cheeks turned red.
The blush was like the pink of spring peach blossoms, gradually spreading from her cheeks until her ears and neck were all tinted with a rosy glow, making her face come alive.
"It doesn’t hurt," Mia Ginger said softly.
"You need to apply some iodine when you get back," Koa Jackson said, having only touched her briefly before stepping away, unaware of her reaction. "There are germs under the nails, don’t let it get infected."
"Oh," Mia Ginger found her voice again.
She turned her head to look at him.
He was wearing a black casual suit, sitting upright and proper, as graceful as an ink bamboo, even amidst the bustling and worldly atmosphere of the restaurant, he retained his elegant and distinguished demeanor.
Koa Jackson always seemed out of place for her.
He was the type of person whose every gesture and movement exuded elegance and nobility.
Making him seem distant.
With his elbow slightly bent, pouring tea, he had an elegance that was impossible to look away from, the delicate teapot and the lush green tea leaves seemed to come to life because of him.
Both vibrant and not to be disrespected.
His expressions and demeanor could all be part of a painting.
The hand Mia Ginger had on her dress clenched slightly, then tighter, until it hurt, suppressing the complex emotions in her heart to appear composed.
She yearned for him, an intense longing.
Yet the closer she got to him, the less she wanted to reveal a thing.
Some people, the closer you look, the more you notice their goodness.
His excellence seemed ingrained in his bones, natural, the more you were with him, the more inadequate it made you feel, seeing his exceptional nature, and recognizing your own insignificance and crudeness, feeling the vast gap like a deep chasm, wide as a wilderness, between the two of you.
She needed to reflect on herself, to see the gap clearly, to strive to close it.
She couldn’t depend on him.
Depending on him would be a loss.
She was Mia Ginger, and even though she had grown up lonely and impoverished, she still had her own pride and stubbornness. Before she matched up to him, she wouldn’t allow herself to like him, to avoid unnecessary trouble.
Koa Jackson, I do not like you.
Mia Ginger’s heart surged and roiled through a thrilling emotional rollercoaster, eventually calming down.
She lowered her eyes, picked up the teacup beside her, and quietly drank.
They finished eating and it was almost two o’clock.
The three of them wandered around a nearby bookstore and old alleyway, buying some books and ornaments, ending the day’s trip at five o’clock.
Koa Jackson took her home.
Mia Ginger felt a bit sleepy, leaning against the passenger seat, drowsy.
The car drove out of the busy area, and Koa Jackson glanced at her, then played an English folk song.
Mia Ginger really didn’t understand.
Her subjects were badly skewed, English grades had been lagging since childhood, the reason was simple, she clashed with every English teacher she’d had, often being targeted in class, she habitually skipped.
But it didn’t stop her from enjoying the music.
The melody was beautiful.
She watched the stunning scenery flash by outside the window, feeling like the car would never stop, a blink and it was eternity.
"Mia Ginger," Koa Jackson called to her.
Mia Ginger turned her head, meeting his deep and calm eyes like tranquil lakes.
"That Zuri Ginger," Koa Jackson lightly tapped the steering wheel, as if lost in thought, "she’s the girl your parents adopted?"