There was nothing special in the call log. Nelson never assigned notes to contacts; he had a good memory and could recall numbers and their owners after seeing them once.
As for the ubiquitous Messenger, Nelson had it too, but his contact list was short, mostly used to communicate with his grandfather and Callie.
In many ways, Nelson was inherently old-fashioned.
Old things always evoked nostalgia.
Callie bit her spoon as she opened his Messenger. Many people had sent him messages, most of which he hadn’t replied to, except for his grandfather’s. His grandfather had reminded him to visit Callie more often.
He had replied simply: “Got it.”
It seemed perfunctory.
Callie skipped through the messages and opened her own chat. He hadn’t assigned a note to her contact. She thought for a moment and wrote: “Callie Baby.”
She found it cheesy and shivered slightly.
Satisfied, Callie put away the phone, went to the bathroom, and took a shower, feeling much more awake. The clothes she had brought were for outdoor wear, but inside, her pajamas had been messed up by Nelson. With a mischievous thought, she put on Nelson’s shirt, which reached just to her thighs, covering her modestly.
Nelson had low blood sugar, making it difficult for him to wake up once he fell asleep.
Callie sat by the bed, holding her face in her hands as she watched him. He was half-asleep, his face buried in the white pillow. His usually mature demeanor now seemed a bit childlike, showing no trace of guile.
Callie watched him for a long time, attached to his tender sleeping appearance. After a while, she reached out to poke Nelson’s face, treating him like a child. “Wake up, it’s already dark.”
Nelson caught her hand without opening his eyes, his voice hoarse. “Tired.”
“Tired or not, you still have to get up.”
He didn’t move.
Callie pouted and joked, “Then keep sleeping. I’m leaving.”
There was no response for a while, but then Nelson slowly opened his eyes and spoke slowly, “Why are you leaving again?”
Callie detected a hint of grievance and sadness in his tone and paused. He seemed afraid of her leaving.
She continued, “I need to go back to take care of Reuben. I can’t stay too long.”
They had been together all day, and she hadn’t mentioned it before.
With a bit of morning grumpiness, Nelson tightened his grip on her hand and spoke firmly, “Let the servants take care of him. Stay here.”
Callie almost laughed. “Nelson, are you reluctant to let me go?”
Nelson disliked her coming and going in a hurry; it made him very agitated.
He sat up slightly, and before Callie could react, he had pulled her onto the bed, lying on top of him. She let out a small cry.
Nelson held her waist tightly. “I said stay here.”
Callie simply let him hold her and laughed. “I was kidding. Reuben can care for himself now; I don’t need to watch over him every day.”
“You’re tricking me.” Nelson squinted his eyes and finally noticed she was wearing his shirt. As they moved, the shirt rode up slightly, revealing tantalizing glimpses that made his blood race.
All traces of sleep vanished. He flipped over and pinned her beneath him, completely in control. Somehow he touched a ticklish spot, making her laugh uncontrollably.
“Hahaha Nelson, stop… stop…”
Nelson released her hand and looked at her seriously.
Callie saw his expression and gradually stopped laughing, apologizing coquettishly, “I’m sorry.”
But there was no room for apologies now. Nelson leaned down, indicating she wouldn’t escape this time.
He whispered softly, “Little enchantress.”