Wishmaker Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Read chapter 25 of Wishmaker by Larch on NovelPedia.

Quietly sitting in a simple bedroom, a large man sat on top of a wooden stool with his legs spread wide to make himself comfortable. His chest was as big as a wrecking ball, perhaps even tougher than steel, with how it bulged beneath his black sweater visibly. Compared to a regular human, he would be like a bear who does not care for personal hygiene. In his bulky hands was a steaming bowl of soup, its contents unknown, but floating atop the ginger broth were what looked like a handful of diced potatoes and sliced carrots decorated with herbs. The man held up a metal spoon in his fingers, which appeared tiny when it was almost swallowed between his index finger and thumb. He blew on it gently despite his size, letting the steam calmly dissipate in the air, and brought it to the boy's face, which flushed red. Looking at the spoonful, he pursed his lips. "Can't you just place the bowl on my bandages? I can manage to eat with one arm." Sunday shook his bushy beard with a smile. "No, you cannot." "Aw, come on!" Val groaned. "I... don't feel well with you feeding me." "How so?" Valentine contemplated for a second on how to explain it, but he couldn't just say, 'You reek, and I don't want you to come any closer to me!' This would be bad manners towards someone who saved his life and provided free food along with shelter. "It's just weird, okay?" The boy swallowed his words, but Sunday did not let go of it. "But what is it that makes you so bothered?" He put the bowl on the nightstand and his hands on his knees, leaning back on the shaky stool slightly. "Despite having one of your arms restored, you are not in the right condition to exert any strength, even if it's something as little as lifting a spoon." He jabbed Val's bandaged chest with his index finger, tapping it a few times to hear a hollow sound beneath it. "Do you feel this?" "Yea-" "No." He cut him off abruptly. "You cannot feel this because I am the only one to know what is hidden under those bandages." "I..." "I understand what you are going through. The curse is not an easy thing to overcome, and many people have lost against it. You don't look like someone who would survive even a day with it, seeing how death is just around the corner waiting to take your soul." Val closed his eyes tightly, looking up at the dark ceiling. The smell of beer was awful today, penetrating his nostrils like never before. Sunday looked at him from the side, watching his expression change from frustrated to confused, even... disgusted? He somewhat understood why he would act like this. The boy woke up in an unfamiliar place with a complete stranger taking care of him. He still remembered how the boy hit him in the nose without thinking. I did not expect that acting unconscious would be this tedious. The injury kept trying to heal itself, so he had to suppress it until making sure the child was gone; only when the sun was down did he choose to follow his trail and find Valentine falling down a cliff, accepting his death. "Still, for what reason do you refuse to trust me?" Valentine kept his eyes closed, not sparing a glance for the old man. The soup on the nightstand had stopped steaming already, getting cold. Looking at it, he let out a long sigh. "Well then, let me answer one of your questions." The boy's ears perked up at his sudden words. "Ask me anything you want, and I shall answer truthfully." He turned his head to the side, watching Sunday move a step away on his little stool. ...Anything? "Why?" Sunday fell into thought for a moment before flashing him a warm smile. "That's the least I can do for you at this moment, so ask away, little one." Like before, he could not understand the man's intentions in the slightest. Why would he offer it to him all of a sudden? But passing up on an opportunity like this... would be a great waste for Valentine, who kept seeing something new with each day. Licking his dry lips, he asked the man curiously. "Who... is that Victoria you keep talking to?" S