Hellebores
As soon as I see his appearance, I mumble "Snow White?"
The name stirs up childhood memories of fairy tales and old stories. The man reminds me of a character from those stories, the beautiful princess with fair skin and lips red as rubies. However, it seems illogical to equate his appearance with a female fairy tale character.
Pfft.
Well, if I take a look at his appearance, which is so perfect and flawless, it was almost as if he came straight from a fairy tale. And if I consider how I saved his ass like a knight in shining cargo pants and guns, then maybe I'm not so far from calling him Snow White.
Suits him.
As soon as the words came out, the man's expression shifted. His cold, unfeeling mask was replaced by a subtle twinge of confusion and uncertainty. He seemed taken aback by my comment. He stares at me curiously, his mouth slightly agape as he searches for something to say. It seems like he has no clue what to make of my statement.
After a few seconds, the man seems to gather himself and he clears his throat. His expression is still one of confusion and uncertainty as he speaks. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
He is still processing my words, trying to find the right response. He seemed utterly stunned by my comment, not knowing how to react.
Ah, fuck me.
My face flushes red from embarrassment as I realize that I've said it out loud. I'm sure I must look like a fool now, a delusional fangirl who sees fictional characters in every handsome man.
"I remember you now. You're the guy I picked up from a dark alley and sent to the hospital." I said in a tone of vague recognition.
The man's expression is still a mixture of confusion and disbelief, but I can't be bothered to explain myself. As far as I'm concerned, I did him a favor, and he should be the one thanking me. I seemed completely unfazed by the man in front of me. It's like I don't care one jot that he could be a murderer or a sociopath.
"So why the menacing and threatening situation? It feels like you could have just said 'thanks for the help' and moved on." I say in a tone that borders on sarcastic. "And I welcome you for helping you out."
The man's initial threat feels ridiculous and unnecessary, and I can't understand why he's taking it this way. The man seems to be calm yet cold. His expression is stoic, and his body is rigid and unmoving. His expression is like a wall of ice, his eyes like a piercing shard of glass.
I stood my ground, staring back at him with the same coldness and dispassion.
As the man stares at me with an icy glare, which suddenly shifts from indifference to suspicion. I can feel the change in the atmosphere, the tension rising to suffocating levels.
"I have a few questions." He says, his tone flat and emotionless.
The man's suspicions had piqued my curiosity. I wonder what he thinks my role is and how much of it is pure conjecture.
"Who are you working for?" He asks me.
"Working for?" I repeated back, slightly surprised at his question.
He raises an eyebrow as he stares at me with a suspicious look. It seems like he's waiting for me to explain my answer.
"What? Who I work for? I'm just a medical student. I work my brain and ass off for my mom. Could that be considered?" I said with the same defiant tone mixed with a hint of sarcasm.
My sense of humor was apparently inappropriate for this situation, but the man's accusing tone is starting to really get on my nerves, and I can't help but feel like he's targeting me unfairly.
The man's expression is hard to parse. At first, there is a flash of confusion that quickly gives way to a look of mild annoyance. His face looks like it could break into a grin at any moment, but it's a grimace instead.
"So a medical student who works for her mother, huh?" he says. It's unclear whether he's being sarcastic or genuine.
"Yes, I am a medical student." I repeated, my tone still defiant, daring him to question me again.
The man's expression only grows more intense as his gaze locks on mine.
Skepticism.
"You claim to be a medical student, but you have an unusual ability. Your skills are not normal for a doctor. And why do you seem so unaffected by the situation?" his voice is firm and authoritative, his demeanor like a cold storm cloud.
"How do you explain that?" He added.
My pulse quickens at the man's accusations, but I try to keep my composure as I speak.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm an athletic student, nothing more." I replied.
"So, are you going to keep pretending? You play your character well, I'll give you that. But don't expect me to believe you for long." his tone and his expression both convey hostility and suspicion.
The man's eyes narrow as he watches me intently, looking for any signs of dishonesty.
The man's questions are becoming increasingly strange and I feel lost and overwhelmed. I am trying to make sense of this situation.
The man seems to think that I'm connected to something, somewhere.
"Where are you getting at?" I say, the anger in my voice starting to creep through my confusion.
He stares at me quietly for a few seconds, and I can't help but feel a flash of anger when I see his unmoving expressions. The silence is like a tight knot around my throat, making it difficult to breathe.
The man remains silent for a few seconds, then suddenly leans back and stares at me intently.
"You're working for my enemy, aren't you? You're a spy sent to approach me to infiltrate my organization." He finally breaks the silence, his tone changing into one rife with arrogance and confidence.
Is he accusing me of being involved in an opposing organization? I don't understand what he's talking about, and his accusation makes me question my own sanity.
"I don't appreciate the accusations. I'm just a medical student doing my job. You're the one who got me confused in the middle of this whole ordeal."
"I believe that you are working for the opposing organization. You have skills that you shouldn't possess, and you are way too composed for this situation. I think that you are someone planted by the enemy as a spy." his response is blunt and to the point.
His answer is chilling in its bluntness, leaving no room for misinterpretation. He seems to have his doubts about me, thinking that my innocence was just a performance, a facade.
The man's face remains unreadable, his expression unchanging. It's hard to tell what he's thinking or feeling. A deep sense of unease washes over me when I look into his eyes, but I can't figure out why.
It feels like this confrontation is an uphill battle, with no room for compromise or understanding. The man's rigid stance, his unyielding glare, makes it difficult to see any way out of this situation. It doesn't help that he still suspects me of something I know nothing about.
I feel a sudden chill down my spine as I realize that the man's mind is set and there's no room for me to explain. The moment of confrontation had hit a sudden wall, and the man's suspicions had hardened into an unbreakable barrier. I remain quiet for a few seconds, processing his words and my situation.
I watch as the man stares at me, a cold and intense gaze that strips the warmth from the air. There it is that cold again. His stare is like an icepick piercing my heart and I feel like I'm being held in an inescapable grip of danger.
This situation has gone too far, and I don't see any room for logic and reasoning.