Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again
Chapter 39: I Want to Tell You Something
CHAPTER 39: CHAPTER 39: I WANT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING
Even normal communication was impossible, and who knew how long it would take for the maintenance personnel to arrive and fix the elevator.
Thinking of this, Ann Vaughn pressed her bloodless lips together, and, looking at the pitch-black scene that was so dark she couldn’t even see her fingers, she began to speak in a trembling voice, "Cyrus Hawthorne, where are you?"
There was no response from inside the elevator, as if he wasn’t there at all.
"If you’re there, could you make a sound?"
Ann Vaughn had no idea where Cyrus Hawthorne was, her eyes searching aimlessly.
As time passed, even though the elevator was spacious enough, it gave her a claustrophobic feeling as if trapped in a narrow box, with a stone pressing on her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.
An indescribable suffocating discomfort.
After a long time, Cyrus Hawthorne, who was casually sitting on one side of the elevator with one knee up, opened his narrow, eagle-like eyes and responded coolly, "Hmm."
The huge stone on Ann Vaughn’s chest shifted a little, and a slightly imperceptible sob escaped her voice, "Then, can I move a little closer to you?"
Could she also be afraid?
Cyrus Hawthorne lowered his gaze, accurately capturing the woman who had curled up in a corner like a foolish hamster, something peculiar flickering in his eyes.
"As you wish."
With his consent, Ann Vaughn hastily moved towards the sound to his side, but unexpectedly, she misjudged his exact position, and her face accidentally bumped into his shoulder.
"I didn’t mean to," she blurted as her face suddenly flushed with heat, quickly withdrawing as though electrified, finding a spot about a step away from him to sit down, exhaling slightly.
Cyrus Hawthorne did not reply, closing his narrow eyes lightly to rest, seemingly indifferent to her earlier clumsy collision.
Inside the elevator, silence once again enveloped them.
In the darkness, her senses outside of sight were infinitely magnified. Ann Vaughn felt as though her heartbeat was accelerating due to the person beside her, and the spot on her face where she had accidentally touched him remained warm.
This seemed to be her first time being so close to him without being pushed away disdainfully.
The palpitation of her heart seemed to continuously transmit from her cheek, Ann Vaughn’s lips curving slightly.
Inhaling the faint scent of mint emanating from him, her nerves, which had been tense all this time, inexplicably began to relax.
It didn’t seem so frightening after all.
Just as Ann Vaughn was relaxing, wanting to lean against the wall to rest for a while, the elevator, which had stopped moving, suddenly jolted and then began to plummet!
"Ah!" Ann Vaughn exclaimed, her body uncontrollably tumbling to the side, desperately clutching onto something.
But she couldn’t help recalling the news of elevator crashes she’d seen before, her face paling a few shades, sweat seeping from her forehead.
She desperately searched her mind for solutions to handle such a situation, but the more she thought, the more blank her mind became, unable to conjure anything!
"Don’t move, nothing will happen." Cyrus Hawthorne’s clear, calm voice unexpectedly resounded by her ear, seeming to carry an infinite soothing magic, instantly dispelling her panic.
Ann Vaughn felt his long arm suddenly wrap around her shoulder, as if protecting her from being thrown over by the sudden jolts of the elevator. By the time she reacted, she was already snugged in his embrace.
The elevator continued its frantic descent, and even though they were several floors up, it wouldn’t take long before they hit the ground.
But Ann Vaughn didn’t feel the slightest fear, one hand tightly gripped his shirt fabric, the other gently resting on her abdomen, the curve of her lips shifting from bitter to relieved.
She must be crazy, finding that such a result didn’t actually make her feel desperate or afraid, maybe even a bit grateful that the person beside her was him at that moment.
"Cyrus Hawthorne," Ann Vaughn closed her eyes, feeling the speed of the elevator’s descent, her fingers halting on her abdomen, "I have something I want to tell you, actually, I..."