0129 Father & Son

0129 Father & Son

Lawrence gently closed the door behind him, leaving only Bryan and the man lying on the hospital bed in a coma in the cold and sterile room. The only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic ticking of the muggle machines that monitored the man’s vital signs. They looked like alien devices to Bryan, who had never seen such things before.

Bryan glanced at the man’s shriveled body, which looked like a dried-up leaf that could crumble at any moment. His life seemed to have come to an end, and he was only waiting for the final breath. Bryan felt a tremor run through his body, and his indifferent expression turned into an indescribable complexity, as if there was a heavy stone pressing on his heart.

He walked slowly to the window, opened the curtains and pushed open the closed window, letting the cool breeze take away the unpleasant smell of medicine and decay that filled the room. Then, leaning against the window sill, Bryan took out a cigarette from his pocket and sniffed it under his nose, regaining his calm gaze and falling on the man’s triangular face that had become thin and pale.

“Ufff–”

After a long time, Bryan uttered an incomprehensible sigh, as if he was feeling sorry for the man, or for himself, or for both of them.

Perhaps it was the cold wind that broke into the ward that made the man uncomfortable. In a blur of murmurs and moans, the man struggled to open his eyes, which had been closed for a long time. He stared at the white ceiling with a hollow gaze, and it took him about five minutes to see some clarity in his cloudy eyes.

Soon, the man who was about to die realized that there was someone else in the room. He looked at the window, but the dazzling light made his vision blurry. He was puzzled why someone dared to open the window of the room, which was supposed to be sealed and isolated. So he blinked hard to see who the person at the window was.

The cool wind made his stiff consciousness more and more smooth, and the blurry light and shadow gradually faded away. As the person’s appearance became clearer and clearer, the man’s mouth opened wider and wider, and his cloudy eyes swelled as if they were about to jump out of their sockets.

The silence continued, he was looking at him, and he was looking at him, too. There was no introduction, but both of them knew very well who the other was.

“Can you give me a cigar? Ever since I was diagnosed, Lawrence wouldn’t let me smoke one. Haha, I think it doesn’t matter now–”

Bryan threw the cigarette in his hand over, and said lightly,

“No cigar, make do with this–”

The man picked up the cigarette that had been squeezed a little out of shape, and frowned unhappily, but in the end, he didn’t insist on his request. He shakily put the cigarette in his mouth and muttered,

“Fire–”

Snap!

“I can’t even remember what that woman looked like.”

“Not hard to understand.” Bryan said calmly, “After all, it’s been many years, and I don’t remember much either–”

His words revealed a message, and the man who accurately captured this message on the bed was stunned, and then asked,

“So, she. I mean, your mother, she’s already.”

“You guessed it right,” Bryan nodded, “She’s been gone for many years–”

Perhaps it was a habitual practice to activate the Occulumency shields when his emotions were unstable, Bryan’s tone always maintained an incomprehensible calm. His calmness made the man feel a bit dazzling, and a bit angry, but after thinking about it carefully, he knew that he had no right to say anything.

“So–”

Seeing that the man seemed to have nothing to say, Bryan straightened up from his leaning position. He nodded at the man,

“Rest well, Mr. Watson, I’m leaving now.”

The words ‘Mr. Watson’ that Bryan uttered burned the man’s pride like a flame. His breathing became rapid, and his body, like a candle in the wind, suddenly surged with a strange strength.

“Do you hate me?” He shouted at Bryan, who was at the door, “Do you hate me for what I did to you and your mother?”

Bryan stopped at the head of the bed, and looked at the man’s eyes for a long time, before saying slowly,

“There’s nothing to resent, Mr. Watson. After all, you’re just an innocent victim.”

The man collapsed back on the bed, looking dejected. The strength that had just emerged in his body was quickly stripped away. He seemed to hear the footsteps of death becoming clearer and clearer.

“Can you please call Lawrence for me?” The man called out to Bryan, who was about to leave, “I have something to tell him.”

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