Chapter 12: Chapter 12
S A G E
Sage zipped his jacket and turned to glance at Irena. She had a displeased look on her face. He smiled at her again, hoping to ease her pain. She bent down and met his gaze.
"You laugh a lot. Should I be worried if you have a concussion?" She raised her finger. "Most people don't even show signs of concussion. Are you confused? Are you more sensitive to light? What about the sound?" She bent down, studying his eyes.
"Miss. Derrick," he said, stepping back.
"Yes?"
"If I'm confused, do you think it's wise to ask me so many questions?" She shyly looked at him.
"I'm sorry, unnecessary information." She patted her forehead and grimaced as she approached the incision on her head.
"Hey," he stepped forward. "Let me help you with that."
He reached out and took her hand.
She stared at him.
"I... uh..."
"No apologies. I am the cause." He led her to the chair and motioned for her to sit down.
She looked worried but didn't object.
He goes to the sink on the other side of the plane and opens the closet door. He rummaged through the piles of detergents and chemicals until he found a first aid kit. He took a tissue and a bottle of water from the fridge and came back. Her eyes widened as he knelt in front of her.
"Here, take this," he said, handing her the rag. He tried to ignore the fact that she was only inches away from her.
She picked it up and started twisting it in her hand.
"Worried, Miss. Derrick?"
He looked at her. For a moment, he felt lost in her Hazel eyes.
"Irena," he said.
Her cheeks flushed red as she nodded. He opened the bottle and motioned for her to give him a tea towel. Once he got it wet, he started dabbing around her cut.
She grimaced and held her breath. Being so close confused him. As if seeing the golden highlights in his eyes, mesmerizing orbs that glimmer like liquid sunshine, the intense hue reminiscent of molten precious metal. It radiates a rare and ethereal warmth, capturing attention with their luminosity. A sight to behold, they hold a captivating allure, sparkling with an otherworldly brilliance that enchants all who gaze into them, it's easier to hate him from afar.
"Are you okay?" he asked, the depth of his voice surprising himself.
She just nodded. He could tell that she was avoiding his gaze as she peeked inside the plane.
"What's the plan?" she asked and winced as he approached her cut.
"Sorry," he said. She gave him a weak smile.
"After spending the night here, we will descend the mountain and get out of here. When our direction is stable, we will head towards the water. The current will lead us to the ocean. With a little luck, we will see a boat or meet hunters." He splashed water on the other end of the cloth and wiped his cut.
"I have good news," he said, setting down the dirty towel. "You won't need stitches."
She glanced at him, her heart pounding. There was something indifference in his eyes that made her extremely uncomfortable.
"Do you know how to do it?" She looked at him questioningly.
"Give you points?" She nodded.
"I've done it many times. Sometimes with myself. Sometimes with my friends when they are stupid."
A smile tugged at her lips as if she remembered something funny.
Sage raised an eyebrow.
"What?" He felt the tension drop from his shoulders.
"Nothing."
"Nothing. You used to laugh. And now, Irena,that's what I don't see you doing."
His mouth hung open.
"I'm smiling." an iceberg.
"Of course. We'll agree."
When he turned around, she had a big smile on her face.
"Really?" His expression softened as he looked at him Sadness filled the air.
What did he say?
"Now don't move," he said, pulling the bandage closer to his skin.
When it was safe, he dropped his hand and wiped the tips of his fingers with his thumb, trying to take away the feeling from her soft skin. It doesn't work.
"What do I look like?" she asked, posing.
"Great," he said, instantly regretting it. Irena looked at him with wide eyes.
"As good as anyone who just survived a plane crash," he added.
"Hey, you should take a look at yourself." She patted his arm as she got up and went to the bathroom, where she looked at herself in the mirror.
The weight that seemed to weigh on her chest diminished as she moved forward. For a while, they almost became individuals. He was tempted to talk about his feelings. He rolled his eyes at her.
Can he do that? Is there really a positive relationship with a journalist?
After that, all the negative articles written about him popped into his head.
Lies and stories made up just to make money. He shook his head. No, you can't confide in Irena.
She will take her secrets and sell them to the highest bidder.
Furthermore, she has no interest in him.
He was just a story to her.
Another rung on his corporate ladder.
And he couldn't ignore the fact that she had a boyfriend.
Sage doesn't care.
But it helped remind his heart and mind that she had crossed the line, no matter how frustrated he felt.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
vewrites
vewrites Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone