"Why don't you observe more today? If you still feel dizzy, you need to go to the hospital."
Vivian's cheeks remained flushed, and she spoke softly.
"Thank you."
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz.
Tristan glanced at her but didn't tease her further.
He turned around and sat back on the sofa.
"What do you want to eat for lunch? I bought groceries on the way back."
Vivian lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with hesitation before speaking.
"How about... I make it?"
He shot her a sideways glance, slightly raising his eyebrows.
"Miss Sinclair, I'm not so heartless as to make a patient get up to cook for me. You just stay put, I'll handle the meals."
Vivian listened and then lowered her head, not making a sound.
She stared at her fingertips, thinking to herself that she's not completely incapable; at least she could cook some noodles.
Tristan proactively listed a few dish names.
Reading while flipping through the memo on his phone.
