This was probably the most tormenting shoe-fitting Mary had ever endured.
The moment Russell's fingers brushed her ankle, an unconscious graze along her calf, a tingling warmth spread from the sole of her foot up through her whole body, making the girl shiver despite herself.
"There." Russell tied off the lace and looked up, meeting her misty eyes.
"The other one." he said.
"No—no need!" Mary shook her head quickly, trying to pull her other foot back. "I can do it myself!"
"How would that do?" Russell caught her other ankle before she could withdraw it.
"You wear one shoe, I put on the other—what kind of arrangement is that?" he said with mock seriousness. "When you start something, you finish it properly."
"I..."
Mary wanted to say something more, but Russell had already lowered his head, repeating the motion from before.
Mary sat on the desk, head bowed, not daring to look at him.
She could feel her cheeks burning hot enough to fry an egg on.
Finally, after what felt like an age, she felt the grip on her calf release.
"What are you still sitting there for?" Russell's voice sounded again. "Not getting down?"
At that, the girl lifted her head and shot him a resentful look before hopping down from the desk.
She didn't even say thank you. Once steady on her feet, she immediately turned her back on him and walked off in quick little steps.
Her retreating figure radiated a thick mixture of shame and irritation.
Russell followed behind her, watching the red tips of her ears, feeling rather pleased with himself.
But then Mary spun around and glared at him fiercely.
"Stop following me!" she said, puffing her cheeks in anger.
"Angry?" Russell raised an eyebrow.
"What do you think?" Mary pouted. "Pervert..."
"You started it." Russell shrugged, then reached out and ruffled her hair. "All right, off you go."
Still unconvinced, the girl grabbed his hand with both of hers and pushed it aside.
"I said, stop following me."
"Still mad? Would it help if I apologized?"
"I'm going to the ladies' room. Are you following me there too?" Mary shot him a glare.
Russell blinked, then laughed awkwardly. "After you."
Satisfied, Mary huffed and turned to leave the classroom, her retreating figure looking a touch too hurried.
Russell sat back down in his chair, his mind unconsciously replaying the sensation from before.
Smooth, delicate, warm—like fine silk, or like well-worn jade.
He suddenly understood why some people developed such a deep fondness for feet.
Elsewhere, Mary stepped out of the restroom.
She twisted the tap open and splashed cold tap water over her burning cheeks.
In the mirror, the girl's cheeks were flushed red, a trace of unshed mist still lingering at the corners of her eyes—those eyes that should have belonged to a huntress were now filled with shame and indignation.
That feeling just now—merely recalling it made her body tremble involuntarily.
So strange...
That tingling numbness, like a current shooting up from the sole of her foot, spreading instantly through every limb, leaving her whole body weak.
Especially when his thumb had grazed the arch of her foot...
Mary's cheeks burned even hotter.
"That idiot... pervert..."
She splashed more cold water on her face until the heat finally receded somewhat, and the physical flutter inside her gradually settled. Only then did she turn off the tap and straighten herself up in front of the mirror.
The girl in the mirror had regained her usual elegance and calm, though the tips of her ears still carried a faint pink tinge.
She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself, and turned away from the sink.
When she returned to the empty classroom, Russell was leaning by the window, gazing out at the view.
Hearing the door open, he turned and looked toward the entrance.
"Back?"
"Mm." Mary answered, her expression already composed, giving nothing away.
She walked over and sat in the chair beside Russell, but this time she didn't lean in close as before, keeping a subtle distance instead.
"Still angry?" Russell watched her, asking carefully.
Mary glanced at him but said nothing.
"All right, all right, my fault." Russell sighed, admitting defeat first. "Won't happen again."
At that, the corner of Mary's mouth twitched upward slightly, but she quickly suppressed it.
"There'll be a next time?" she huffed lightly.
"Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue." Russell waved his hands quickly.
Only then did the girl withdraw her gaze, satisfied, though she didn't tease him further as before.
The afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting dappled light on the floor. The empty classroom was quiet, save for the occasional birdsong outside and the rustle of wind through the leaves.
The two sat side by side by the window, neither speaking, yet the silence wasn't awkward—a subtle, warm ambiguity lingered between them.
Mary tilted her head, gazing out the window. Sunlight fell across her profile, rendering her delicate face almost translucent, her long silver hair stirring gently in the breeze.
Time seemed to slow in that moment, each second stretched like drawn candy, sweet and clinging.
"Russell." After some unknown span of time, Mary suddenly spoke, breaking the quiet.
"Mm?" Russell turned his head toward her.
The girl also turned, her azure eyes remarkably clear in the sunlight.
"I..." She parted her lips as if to say something, but the words caught in her throat and she swallowed them back.
"What's wrong?" Russell asked.
Mary shook her head, then nodded.
She simply looked at him, and those eyes that always carried a hint of a smile were now brimming with some complicated emotion.
"Do you remember," she said softly, "I once told you to wait for me a little longer."
Russell paused for a moment, then nodded. "I remember."
"I won't make you wait too long," Mary said. "A week... a month at most. Within a month."
She paused, then softened her tone, a note of pleading creeping in.
"So... just wait one more month for me. Okay?"
Hearing this, Russell was silent for a moment, looking into those shining eyes as if pondering something.
"I don't quite know what you mean by the 'real you' you keep speaking of," he finally said slowly.
"Because to me, every single moment of you is real. There isn't a shred of falseness in it."
Mary blinked in mild surprise.
"But since you're asking me to wait," Russell continued, then broke into a smile, "then I'll wait."
The girl fell silent, pressing her lips together.
Why...
Why did he always have to say such unnecessary things.
"You..." she said softly, then reached out and wrapped her arms around Russell's waist, burying her face against him.
"You're always like this," the girl's voice came muffled from against his chest, and she tightened her embrace a little more.
Russell looked down at Mary in his arms, only smiled gently, then rested a hand on top of her head and stroked it slowly.
"Oh, right, there's one more thing." Suddenly Mary looked up, gazing at Russell with a mischievous glint.
"Mm?" Russell raised an eyebrow. "What thing?"
"A lady's legs are sacred and inviolable," Mary said. "Whether intentional or not, it counts as a serious offense."
"You're telling me this now?" Russell narrowed his eyes. "You're the one who provoked me first."
"But I stopped you in time," the girl said with a laugh. "It was you who insisted on going all the way through, saying something about how once you start you have to finish, or it wouldn't be proper."
She said this while staring straight at Russell, as if she'd reclaimed her huntress identity once more, and the arms wrapped around his waist tightened, as though preventing her prey from escaping.
"Now I have something to hold over you, Mr. Russell."
She laughed, as though pleased her little scheme had succeeded.
"So," Russell looked at her, "what do you plan to do? Send Scotland Yard after me?"
"That depends on your sincerity," Mary said with a smile. "You have to take responsibility, you know."
"And how exactly do you want me to take responsibility?" he asked.
"Hmm..." Mary tilted her head, as if seriously pondering the question.
"Let's start from today—"
After a moment's thought, the girl spoke slowly, extending a slender finger, its tip tinged a pretty pink in the sunlight.
"First, you have to rest properly from now on. No more staying up late."
Russell paused for a moment, then laughed.
"What's this about?"
"I'm serious." Mary looked up, her azure eyes staring straight at him.
"You're always taking care of others but rarely thinking of yourself. You must have been exhausted yesterday too, but you still stayed with me all that time running around. And after I leave, you'll probably keep worrying about this and that, and still have to get up early every day to make breakfast for Charlotte..."
She complained, then reached out and tapped his chest lightly with her finger.
"So, rule one: rest properly, no staying up late—especially not staying up till dawn helping Charlotte with her cases.
If Charlotte has a problem with that, she can come talk to me."
"All right." Russell nodded, agreeing.
"Second," Mary held up another finger, forming a peace sign.
"You have to eat properly from now on. No skipping breakfast just because you're busy, and definitely no just grabbing a piece of bread to—"
"Wait." Russell cut her off. "I don't think you need to remind me of this one. I haven't missed a single meal in ages."
"Not doing it now doesn't mean you won't in the future," Mary said matter-of-factly. "I have to nip your bad habits in the bud ahead of time."
Watching her earnest face, Russell suddenly felt like laughing.
"And if I don't change?"
Mary blinked, the corner of her mouth curling into a dangerous little arc.
"Then I'll move into Baker Street and keep an eye on you every day."
"You're serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Russell was silent for two seconds, then sighed.
"Fine, agreed to rule two as well."
Satisfied, Mary nodded and held up a third finger.
Three fair, slender fingers stood side by side, glowing softly in the afternoon sunlight.
"And third—" Mary was about to raise her third finger when Russell spoke first.
"Study hard?" he ventured.
"After all, first was rest well, second was eat well, so third should be study well, right?"
At that, Mary blinked in mild surprise, then let out a soft laugh, one tinged with helplessness yet also something like fondness, as if looking at a slow-witted, adorable child.
"No, that's not it." She shook her head. "I don't care about your grades, whether you pay attention in class or understand the lessons, or whether you'll fail your finals."
The girl tilted her head up, smiling as she looked at Russell. "None of that matters to me, none of it means anything. Do you know what the Morstan family does?"
"Business?" Russell guessed tentatively.
"Right, business." Mary nodded. "Railways, mining, textiles, real estate... more than half the factories in London have Morstan family shares. Even Imperial College's library was built with money our family donated."
She said it plainly, as though stating some inconsequential little fact.
"So?"
"So—" Mary leaned in closer, her azure eyes staring straight at him.
"Even if you stopped attending a single class starting now, even if you failed every subject, even if Imperial College expelled you—"
The corners of her mouth curved upward, into a proud arc.
"I could still afford to keep you."
Russell was momentarily at a loss for words.
"So, my third request is simple." Mary's voice softened.
"I want you to watch me. Properly." she said.
"When I laugh, you have to watch. When I cry, you have to watch too. When I'm angry, when I'm jealous, you have to watch closely.
When I wear my school uniform, you have to watch. When I wear a gown, you have to watch too. And when I wear plain clothes, or anything else... you have to watch closely.
Watch how, step by step, I walk toward you.
Watch how, little by little, I fill up your world.
Watch how I make you unable to ever leave me again."
Afternoon sunlight slanted in through the window, wrapping around the two of them. After Mary finished speaking, she said nothing more.
She stepped back and looked at him, as if waiting for an answer.
"That sounds..." Russell paused, "not so difficult, actually."
"It was never a difficult thing to begin with," Mary said, then leaned in slightly. "What, did you think I'd give you some impossibly hard demand?"
"I thought you might make me write you a letter every day, reporting everything I did, who I met, that sort of thing," Russell said, half-joking.
"Hm? That actually sounds like a pretty good idea." The girl's eyes turned thoughtfully.
"Should I revise it? Not only do you have to write me a letter every day reporting in, you also have to tell me everything you did with Charlotte, what you talked about, what you ate, and then..."
"Stop, stop, I think what we have is enough," Russell hurried to cut her off.
At that, the girl laughed, a sound like a wind chime tinkling in the breeze, crisp and pleasant.
"Then it's settled." She withdrew her fingers and instead took Russell's hand, lacing their fingers together.
"If you fail to keep your word, you'll have to swallow a thousand needles."
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