Me After Meeting You

“… Yes.” Ian’s grandmother glanced at her husband before hesitatingly answering, and then she hurriedly explained, “He has a very strong cleanliness complex, which intensifies when he’s ill. It’s so severe that almost no one else can touch him because he claims that they’re all dirty.”

It was understandable, and a common physiological symptom of patients suffering from emotional detachment. Amber’s medical books contained a case study with patients suffering from the exact same problem.

She had originally thought that Ian’s strong willpower would allow him to overcome his desire for cleanliness, but she didn’t expect his cold rationality to be so easily destroyed by illness.

But when she reexamined this situation again, her actions did seem to have been a bit too excessive that day. Despite knowing that he had contracted a cold and was possibly also having an allergic reaction, she had reacted to his provocations and lost control. In the end, she had even ignored all his symptoms and was going to let him leave just like that.

After taking a deep breath, Amber rolled up her sleeves. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way so that at the very least, Dr. Benny can help inspect his condition.” As she said this, she looked at the doctors standing behind Dr. Benny. They were all very young, clearly, Ian’s grandparents had planned on using force if Ian refused to cooperate. “I hope that it won’t be necessary for you guys to handle the situation, so give me a bit of time, alright?”

Ian’s grandfather and the rest immediately nodded. Amber smiled, turned around, opened the door, and went back inside. Before she entered, she lifted her feet and removed even her socks-the corridors outside looked clean, but who knew if Ian thought the same.

Amber also removed her outer jacket. Inside, she was wearing a sweater with a similarly colored long skirt; the whole outfit accentuated her figure, making her look particularly slim and graceful. She was usually fond of this style of clothing because it was both comfortable and warm, but she was regretting it a little now because her skirt might make the next couple of actions a bit difficult.

As she rolled her sleeves up, she turned around and asked, “Did you guys bring any food?”

Ian’s grandmother immediately said, “Yes, yes.” A young man walked up to Amber with a massive lunchbox. Amber opened it and peered inside, satisfied.

She took the lunchbox, closed the door, and walked inside. When psychiatrists treated their patients, they tended to isolate themselves to ensure that there would be no distractions and that the patients’ privacy would be protected. Naturally, this meant that she didn’t plan on letting people observe her.

Ian had already stopped throwing things around and he seemed to have calmed down, but his gaze remained cruel. Amber felt that, if not for his enervating hunger and illness shaving away at most of his vitality, he would have thrown her out of the house as if she were a piece of garbage.

At this point, he had almost completely forgotten that he had once told her that he wanted to woo her despite his straightforward confession of wanting to have sex with her.

In his eyes, perhaps she was no more than a germ, a human sized germ that he abhorred with all his being.

Amber stooped down halfway. She first picked up the recording device that was under the coffee table, turned down its volume, and then opened the lunchbox.

Ian’s grandparents really did love him, and their love could clearly be seen in the food that they had prepared, particularly refined and meticulously made. It even took his feeble physical condition into account: most of the dishes were supposed to be good for the body and easily digested.

There wasn’t much of each dish, but everything looked wonderfully delectable.

Ignoring his gaze, Amber brought out a bowl of yam and jujube porridge. As soon she lifted the cap covering it, a delicate fragrance filled the room. Amber had only eaten two scones that night, so as soon as this enticing aroma wafted towards her, her hunger pangs became painfully clear. Her craving for food was so great that it felt like her heart and lungs were aching with desire.

She put the bowl of porridge down on the coffee table in front of the desk and lightly stirred it. “Mmm, it smells quite fragrant. Do you want some?”

Ian didn’t move at all, only continuing to stare at her coldly.

Amber ignored his lack of reaction. Instead, she picked up one of the pillows that had fallen on the floor and sat on it before leisurely starting to eat the porridge. The lunchbox had more than enough food to spare, and since Ian wouldn’t be able to finish everything, it wouldn’t matter if she had some.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Amber ate in a particularly alluring manner, even smacking her lips every few bites. As she ate, she praised the food. “Yum, it’s really tasty.” She smiled at Ian and asked, “Do you want to try some?”

Her expression made Ian want to beat her up.

Amber felt like Ian’s gaze was getting even gloomier. If she looked closely enough, she would have seen his eyes about to burn up from anger.

When she was almost done with the porridge, she brought out another dish: stir fried meat with sauteed celery. To Amber, this dish was pretty light, but it must have been something that Ian particularly liked, because she could clearly see him swallowing his saliva.

Even the craziest person in the world had to eat.