Their tent was no cramped cubbyhole for loners. It was a spacious canvas abode, room enough for a trio or quartet, akin to a miniature cabin.
Inside, a casual layer of blankets was strewn about the floor. In such close quarters, Agnes felt a pang of awkwardness at the thought of sharing the space with Ryder.
With a determined air, she stood, grasped a steaming mug, and stepped out of the tent.
Ryder was right there, just outside. Gone was his white lab coat, his business suit shed.
Instead, he donned casual wear, a stark contrast to his usual austere appearance.
Yet, even out of his professional attire, there was a calm, restrained aura about him.
Offering the mug to Ryder, Agnes asked, "Do you want some water?"
He accepted the mug, holding it in his hands without taking a sip.
Agnes sighed, "You shouldn't have come here for me."
She knew what was going on, it was clear as day that Ryder had come for her. Her heart was a tangled mess, touched yet conflicted.
This was a dangerous place, and as a journalist, her job bestowed upon her a duty to remain detached. But Ryder was under no such obligation. He wasn't even a doctor anymore, but a businessman.
"I'm worried about you," Ryder said, looking straight into Agnes' eyes, his emotions undisguised.
"Ryder, no matter how kind you are to me, I can't reciprocate," she began, "You know what happened last time at the hospital. I promised your mother I wouldn't see you again. To me, you were just a doctor at Nocturne, and now that you've left Novy Medical Team, Nocturne doesn't need you anymore. You're of no use to me."
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