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belamy20
In the dorm room, the air was thick with the scent of burn ointment mixed with the acrid smell of charred wood.
Vic and Enid stood on either side of Wednesday, carefully treating the red marks on her arm and the back of her neck where sparks had landed.
Vic's movements were exceptionally gentle, his fingertips trembling slightly as if afraid of hurting this "treasure" he had nearly lost.
"Whoa, Wednesday, even your hair tips are curled. You smell like burnt toast."
Vic leaned in close, sniffing around the crook of her neck like an anxious puppy, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive skin.
Wednesday frowned slightly. She placed a hand against Vic's encroaching forehead and pushed him away a few inches.
Her other hand, however, never stopped flipping through the stack of charred-edged paper, checking page by page for missing sections or ruined handwriting.
Her focus was poured almost entirely into those papers.
Pushed away, Vic watched Wednesday's "the manuscript is more important than anything" attitude, and his cheeks puffed out involuntarily.
He cleared his throat, deliberately letting out two loud, fake coughs:
"Ahem!"
Wednesday didn't even lift her eyelids. Her fingertip turned another page.
Enid, seeing Vic's childish behavior, tried hard to suppress the corners of her mouth.
She pretended to focus intently on applying the ointment, turning a blind eye to Vic's gaze, which was screaming "Help me out here!"
She really wanted to see what Vic would do next.
Seeing his ally "defect," Vic felt a bit defeated.
He started making noise in various ways—first "accidentally" knocking over an empty water cup on the desk.
Fortunately, Enid caught it with quick reflexes.
Then he started kicking the leg of the bed gently, making a dull thud-thud sound.
Wednesday remained as steady as a mountain, as if she were inside a soundproof barrier. Only the rustling of turning pages responded to Vic's "performance."
Vic's cheeks puffed out even more, looking like a hamster with a mouth full of pinecones.
He knew Wednesday definitely noticed; she and Enid were clearly colluding to watch him make a fool of himself!
But the mix of lingering fear, grievance, and a little bit of "I was so worried about you, but you only care about the paper" jealousy made him feel suffocated.
Finally, he slammed his palm onto the desk beside him—Smack!—controlling his strength so he didn't actually break it, but loud enough to make the two girls pause.
He glared at Wednesday, his tone so sour it could pickle cucumbers:
"Wednesday! Answer me this: If your novel manuscript and I both fell into the fire at the same time, who would you save first?!"
"Pfft—!"
Enid couldn't hold it back anymore. She burst out laughing, her shoulders shaking.
She looked at Vic's handsome face, written with "Comfort me now," then at the corner of Wednesday's mouth, which was twitching slightly despite her blank expression.
This scene was better than any comedy.
Their little boyfriend's jealousy range was expanding rapidly—from the Shadow Khan to the manuscript. Next time, would he get jealous if she hugged Thing?
Wednesday finally lifted her eyes from the manuscript and looked calmly at the puffing Vic.
"Vic, hmm..."
Wednesday's voice remained calm, carrying the seriousness of an academic discussion.
"Analyzing from a logical and physical standpoint, the probability of you and my manuscript falling into a fire simultaneously is negligible."
"Even if it occurred, given your reaction speed and... specific abilities, self-rescue is well within your capabilities. My manuscript, however, is a flammable object lacking autonomous mobility. The rescue priority is obviously higher for the latter."
This analysis, calm to the point of coldness, was like a bucket of ice water dumped on Vic's jealousy-boiling heart.
"Logic! Priority!"
Vic repeated the two words in disbelief. His peach-blossom eyes widened, filled with grievance and an accusation of "I can't believe you're talking logic with me."
"Darling~ Is this a logic problem? This is an attitude problem! An emotional problem!"
He pointed at the stack of charred papers, heartbroken:
"In your heart, do I not even compare to a pile of paper with words on it?"
She didn't speak. She simply looked him up and down slowly, with a gaze akin to examining a specimen, before returning her eyes to the manuscript:
"You are more fire-retardant."
"???"
Vic's eyes bulged instantly. He pointed at his own nose in disbelief.
"I... I'm fire-retardant?! Wednesday! What kind of devilish statement is that! I'm your boyfriend! Living! Breathing! Warm! I'm way more important than a pile of paper sheets, right?!"
"Do these manuscripts give you kisses every day?"
He got more agitated as he spoke, almost jumping off the bed.
Wednesday remained unruffled, turning another page.
"You can burn for a while without issue."
"I..."
Defeated thoroughly by this logic, Vic felt a lump in his chest, his face turning red.
He turned to Enid, who was laughing even harder, seeking final justice.
"Enid! You be the judge! How can she be like this!"
Enid barely stopped laughing, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. She deliberately kept a straight face, imitating Wednesday's tone to analyze seriously:
"Hmm... from a pragmatist's perspective, the manuscript is a unique copy. Vic, you are a renewable resource... She kind of has a point?"
"Enid! You too!"
Vic was in utter despair. Like a giant dog abandoned by the world, his head drooped, and his whole being turned grey.
Watching his pathetic appearance, the corner of Wednesday's mouth curved up by a microscopic pixel.
She closed the manuscript and placed it gently aside, finally turning her full attention to Vic.
She extended the hand that wasn't covered in ointment. Her cool fingertips gently touched Vic's puffed-out cheek.
"I was deceiving you."
Her voice was still cool, but in those abyssal eyes, a very faint glimmer named "amusement" seemed to flash.
"The manuscript can be rewritten."
She paused, her gaze landing on Vic's still slightly damp hair and his aggrieved eyes. Her tone carried an indescribable seriousness.
"You... cannot."
Vic raised his head instantly. His eyes lit up swish, like a lightbulb fully charged in a split second.
All grievances were swept away. A brilliant smile bloomed on his face instantly—the speed of his mood change was staggering.
"Really? I knew you cared about me the most, Wednesday!"
He immediately climbed up the pole, spreading his arms to tackle Wednesday with a bear hug.
"Halt." Wednesday raised a finger, pressing it against his chest to stop him. "The ointment is not dry."
Vic sat back obediently, but the silly grin on his face wouldn't stop, like a child who just got the world's sweetest candy.
Enid watched the pair of comedians, shaking her head with a smile. She picked up the burn cream and continued applying it to Wednesday, speaking softly:
"But seriously, Wednesday, you can't take risks like that next time. No matter how important the manuscript is, it's not as important as you."
Wednesday felt the cool touch of the ointment on her back. After a moment of silence, she gave a low "Mmhmm."