Chapter 125: Filled with His Scent
The night was utterly silent.
Sophie Wexler didn’t dare eat too much, since it was already late. After she finished, Tammy obediently cleared away the dishes.
With nothing else to do, a question surfaced in her mind.
Sophie Wexler turned to look at Cillian Forrest and, after a long moment, asked, "Um, where am I sleeping?"
She hadn’t toured the house, but overall, it was a bit larger than her old place. After all, she had been poor before, and that apartment had been genuinely small.
Compared to her own home, which was filled with all sorts of little knick-knacks, Cillian Forrest’s overall decor was very minimalist. Aside from daily necessities, there were almost no decorative items, giving it a cold and sterile look.
After speaking, Sophie Wexler stared at Cillian Forrest, waiting for his answer.
’This matching was just a stopgap measure. We aren’t a real couple, so of course we can’t sleep in the same room, right?’
Cillian Forrest’s gaze on Sophie Wexler was deep and intense. He stared for a long, long time—so long that Sophie started to feel overwhelmed and finally looked away in a fluster.
Seeing this, the man let out a low chuckle.
Then he stood up and said, "Follow me."
He led Sophie Wexler to a room and pushed open the door. "You’ll stay here."
’He had no objections to them sharing a room, but it seemed like it would be too much of a shock for her. Best to take it one step at a time, so he didn’t scare her away.’
’Besides, she was already here with him now.’
Standing behind Cillian Forrest, Sophie Wexler heard his words and peeked inside.
The room’s decor was identical to the rest of the house—extremely minimalist and cold. Only a pile of documents on the desk added a hint of life to the space.
However, as Sophie Wexler looked at the room, she asked hesitantly, "This isn’t your room, is it?"
It didn’t look like an unoccupied room.
"Um, I saw there are other rooms. I can just stay in a guest room," Sophie Wexler said hurriedly.
"The other rooms haven’t been prepared," Cillian said. "They don’t even have beds. Do you want to stay in one?"
Sophie Wexler: "..."
"Then where will you sleep?"
"There’s a sofa in the study," Cillian replied succinctly.
Sophie Wexler glanced at the room, then thought about the sofa. ’Oh, well. I definitely prefer a bed to a sofa.’
The matching banquet had gone on for a long time, and Sophie Wexler was exhausted. She didn’t argue further, figuring she would buy some things for a guest room later and move over then, freeing up Cillian Forrest’s room for him.
Meanwhile, some of her luggage had just been delivered by people from The Healer-class Association.
After washing up, Sophie Wexler came out and glanced at Cillian Forrest. Seeing that he was busy, she decided not to disturb him and sent him a message on her communicator instead.
[Sophie Wexler: Get some rest. Good night.]
Cillian Forrest looked at the message on his communicator, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. [Good night.]
The whole day had been exhausting. The matching banquet had involved so many tedious procedures that Sophie Wexler was dead tired. While washing up, she had been thinking, ’I’ll definitely pass out the moment my head hits the pillow.’
But when she actually lay down on the bed, Sophie Wexler felt her entire body go rigid.
The moment she lay down, she was instantly enveloped by a sharp, cold aura. It was an exceptionally familiar scent—she knew, with absolute clarity, that this was Cillian Forrest’s scent.
This was his room. No matter how minimalist or unadorned it was, the feeling of Cillian Forrest’s presence was impossible to ignore.
It was as if this was his territory, and Sophie Wexler was a little rabbit that had stumbled into it. She was completely wrapped in Cillian Forrest’s scent, which seemed to close in on her bit by bit, until she was finally drawn into an embrace.
If the entire room was like this, it was even more so for an extremely private place like the bed, where his presence was even stronger.
Lying in bed, Sophie Wexler could even imagine that the person who had been lying here not long ago was Cillian Forrest.
The moment she thought of that, she couldn’t sleep at all and shot up in bed.
Her clear eyes stared at the blanket for a long time before she reached up and frantically ruffled her own hair.
’Ah! I never should have agreed to sleep in his room!’
’This situation is a little too intimate.’
Sophie Wexler got out of bed and quietly opened the door, intending to see if Cillian Forrest was done with his work.
’If he’s finished, maybe we can discuss it, and I can sleep on the sofa in the study instead.’
She walked to the study door, which was ajar. Sophie Wexler poked her head out and saw the Light Brain in front of him, its projected virtual screen filled with rapidly scrolling data.
’He seems busy. It probably wouldn’t be good to disturb him now, right?’
’I’ll just wait until he’s done.’
With that thought, Sophie Wexler pulled her head back in.
Over the next hour, Sophie Wexler scurried back and forth between the bedroom and the study several times.
But Cillian Forrest remained busy the entire time.
Eventually, her eyelids grew so heavy they felt glued together. She leaned against the side of the bed, yawned, and squinted her sleepy eyes.
’Maybe... I’ll just rest my eyes for a little bit?’
’By the time I wake up, Cillian Forrest will surely be done, right?’
’Then I can suggest we switch.’
The thoughts slowly turned in her mind until, finally, Sophie Wexler’s breathing became deep and even.
In the study, Cillian Forrest’s expression faltered for a moment. He lifted his eyes from the Light Brain and murmured, "She’s finally asleep."
"What was that, Marshal?" On the other end of the line, Ethan Cross, who was reporting on the night’s battle, paused. The Marshal seemed to have said something, but his voice was too low for him to hear clearly.
"Pause for a moment." After saying that, Cillian Forrest muted his audio, rose from his chair, and disappeared from the screen.
Cillian Forrest’s steps were light as he entered the bedroom.
As soon as he went in, he saw Sophie Wexler asleep, leaning against the headboard. There were faint signs that the bed had been slept in, but she was now sitting on the edge, with the blanket tossed to one side.
Seeing this, Cillian Forrest chuckled softly and reached out to lift her into his arms. She must have sensed the movement, as Sophie Wexler’s brow furrowed slightly. But she was probably too exhausted, because her frown quickly smoothed out again.
Kneeling on the edge of the bed with one leg, Cillian Forrest laid her back down. He glanced at the abandoned blanket, pulled it over, and covered her with it.
"What a silly girl."
A very soft voice, tinged with amusement, sounded in the room.
His spiritual power covered the entire house; how could he possibly not have noticed Sophie Wexler’s movements? He knew about every single trip she made back and forth.
He even knew what she was planning to do.
But just then, Cillian Forrest saw Sophie Wexler raise a hand and try to pull the blanket down again. He quickly grabbed it, stopping her.
Sophie Wexler pulled for a while but couldn’t move it, so she finally gave up.
Cillian Forrest looked down at the woman on the bed, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "You’ll have to get used to it."
’She’ll have to get used to him, bit by bit.’
’So, they would start with the room.’
Once he was sure Sophie Wexler wouldn’t try to throw off the blanket again, Cillian Forrest left the bedroom, satisfied.