Medeia couldn't stop smiling from ear to ear as she sat next to Lucian, who was driving the car. They were at the very front of the horde, while the other villagers in the trucks behind them.
Therefore, they finally had some time alone without the distraction of others.
But even though she was happy to see his face after so long, there was a suppressed feeling that had been haunting Medeia for the past few days.
"Is it so hard to talk to me every time you come to the village?" Medeia huffed, "You were always busy before you left the village, and busy as soon as you came back. It's like you don't want to talk to me."
Now Medeia felt like a neglected wife who was scolding her workaholic husband.
The workaholic "husband" lowered his head in guilt. He didn't take his eyes off the road, but his hand tried to reach Medeia's.