After a long period of silence in the car, Irene felt uncomfortable, and her stomach growled. She was hungry.
Her eyes couldn't help but trail toward Simeon, who was very focused, driving with his eyes on the road.
His eyes were so calm, and his perfectly handsome face showed no expression, despite the argument they had just had a moment ago.
The sound of her stomach growling was so loud—didn't he hear it? She was really hungry.
She looked at him again. He was still focused on driving the car, and Irene noticed he didn't even bother to glance at her.
Even though she had caused the argument earlier, the silence made her uncomfortable.
She couldn't stand the growing tension anymore. Turning to him, she said, "Simeon, I'm hungry. I need something to eat now."
Her chest rose and fell like a drum after she spoke, but he seemed to have no intention of answering her, remaining silent.
Her expression grew more uncomfortable, and she frowned. Simeon kept driving quietly.
It felt like he was intentionally ignoring her words. Fine, she thought in frustration.
The silence was overwhelming. Let it be, she thought sarcastically.
Isn't it just hunger? She could endure it. It would only take two more hours before they reached the mansion.
Irene stayed quiet in the car, and so did Simeon.
She should have been sleeping, closing her eyes to calm the anger inside her. But her eyes couldn't leave Simeon. She kept staring at the back of his head. The mirror in front of the car reflected his face.
She observed his face—it had phoenix eyes, and his calm, well-structured features stood out.
Irene didn't like Simeon. She wasn't interested in handsome guys, but she couldn't help but appreciate the quality of his appearance.
When she finally decided to fall asleep, music started booming in her ears.
The song played: "This bitch is crazy. This bitch is crazy. This bitch is crazy."
She got pissed off by the sound of that music.
It felt insulting to her. Opening her eyes, she realized Simeon had turned on the radio.
She glared at him and immediately asked, "Why did you turn on that kind of music in front of me?"
Simeon didn't answer. His calm eyebrows and expressionless face remained unchanged. His lips, refusing to form a smile or a frown, frustrated her further.
Her chest heaved up and down. She could have started crying—that's how she was. The emotions she usually felt often tried to make her cry.
After glaring at him for what felt like forever, Simeon finally moved his well-structured lips and told her indifferently, "That music wasn't intentional. It's just the radio channel that was on when I turned on the speaker."
Irene raised her eyebrows slightly.
Was it unintentional? She thought.
She didn't fully believe him but folded her arms, adjusting her head on the seat, trying to get more comfortable. It better be true, she thought.
The silence in the car suffocated them again.
Irene looked out the car window, focusing on the streets and the tall buildings that seemed to move with her gaze.
She noticed that Simeon had taken another turn, moving onto a different road. They were supposed to go straight, but he turned left.
Where was he taking her? She kept quiet, closing her eyes and frowning, not wanting to engage further with him.
When the car finally parked, Simeon got out and closed the door. Irene watched as he walked toward a restaurant.
She couldn't help but think he was angry or maybe hungry and wanted to buy food for himself.
Narrowing her eyes, she closed them again, folding her arms more tightly. She didn't want thoughts of him filling her mind.
After a while, she heard the sound of the car door clicking open. His eyes were on her, and he said, "I brought you a meal."
Without waiting for her reaction, he dropped the package of food on her lap.
Irene was speechless. She couldn't say a word.
She felt too embarrassed to even thank him.
She realized that in all the moments she had spent telling Simeon she was hungry, he had heard her. Yet his acting was so perfect that she thought he hadn't.
Setting the package aside, she fiddled with her hands. Her voice softened as she carefully considered her words.
Smiling awkwardly, she said, "I can't eat in the car. My stomach will turn if I eat in here."
Once again, Simeon didn't answer her. He just kept driving.
Irene decided not to overreact at the moment because he was calm, and saying anything would make her seem like the one causing problems.
When she finally dropped her eyes on the food, deciding to endure the discomfort and eat in the car, the vehicle stopped.
Simeon got out, and the door clicked shut.
He looked at her through the window, then opened the car door and told her, "There's a nice spot over here where you can eat."
His calm phoenix eyes didn't shift or show any emotion she could notice.
Irene stepped out of the car gently in her heels, carrying the package of food in her arms.
Outside, she stared at the surroundings. The place was beautiful—it looked like a private resort spot, with plants, tables, chairs, and the full moon illuminating everything.
She couldn't help but glance toward Simeon. He was standing and looking at the moon.
Before she knew it, blue mist covered him.
She closed her eyes against the light, and when she opened them, he had shifted into his werewolf form.
It was the full moon. She guessed he had to shift.
The reason why he needed to shift didn't bother her because she wasn't a wolf.
But again, her heart wavered. Her eyes hesitated to glance at his werewolf form.
Today was the day he could act like a beast, lash out at her, and need soothing. But all she had done was piss him off.
She didn't know if Simeon's werewolf form sensed her looking at him, but his sharp golden eyes met hers.
Hesitating, she immediately looked down, not wanting to face him.
To distract herself, she found a table and sat there to eat her meal.
After Irene ate her meal, thirty minutes had passed. She looked at the spot where Simeon had been but didn't see him.
Her heart almost skipped a beat when she turned and saw Simeon now in human form beside her.
His arms were folded over his chest, and he asked, "Are you done?"
His voice was slightly serious and unbothered as if no effort had been put into saying those words.
Irene felt uncomfortable with how calm he looked. She did not like this feeling.
Maybe she had liked the attention he had given her earlier, but now she realizes she had messed it up.
"Yes, I'm done," she said, but suddenly her body tensed as she saw him move toward her.
Her heart raced, and she closed her eyes, unsure of what she was expecting. Then she felt something soft, like fabric, brush against her lips.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Simeon with a handkerchief, cleaning her lips.
"There were crumbs," he said, his eyes focused and cold on her.
Her eyelashes fluttered, covering her vision in nervousness. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.
She cleared her throat awkwardly and muttered, "Thank you."
Simeon nodded without saying anything, and he turned toward the car, expecting her to follow him.
Irene wasn't sure what she expected from him at that moment, but she decisively stopped him.
She smiled at him. "Maybe we can admire the full moon together, and maybe the water."
His cold and calm phoenix eyes focused on her for a moment before he responded, "Okay."
His tone was indifferent, more so than any tone anyone had ever used with her.
Awkwardly, Irene watched him walk beside the calm stream, turning and looking at her suggestively.
She cleared her throat and hurriedly ran in her heels to take a seat beside him.
Everything was silent, and she almost regretted her actions, but she stopped herself.
Simeon did not say a word, and she didn't either.
Irene decided to break the silence, placing her hair behind her ear. She said softly, "Isn't the reflection of the moon in the stream beautiful?"
She glanced slightly at Simeon, and he glanced at her. His gaze didn't last long, and he said, "Yes, it is nice."