Chapter 8-sleepwalking

Marilyn's POV

Teacher Joey took a moment to familiarize himself with Lynn's background, including the textbooks he had previously used, elective subjects, learning progress, strengths, and weaknesses.

It was clear that bringing Lynn to meet Teacher Joey was not a mere formality, as I wanted him to make the most of his time, unlike other privileged children.

We engaged in a conversation for over twenty minutes, and as we prepared to leave, Teacher Joey retrieved a set of papers from the neatly stacked pile on his desk and handed them to Lynn.

He said, "Take these papers home and complete them. Allocate 120 minutes for each subject and approach them as you would in an actual exam. Once you're finished, take photos of your answers and send them to me. I will arrange for the respective subject teachers to review and grade them, providing us with an initial assessment of your abilities."

Lynn accepted the papers and exchanged contact information with Teacher Joey.

Throughout the conversation, I remained silent, only rising from my seat once the discussion between the teacher and student had concluded. We bid farewell to Dr. Glu once again, expressing our gratitude, before leaving the school together.

The school was conveniently located just two or three kilometers away from our home.

Upon returning home and finishing our dinner, Lynn retrieved the papers and quietly began working on them. Aware of the need for a quiet environment, I took my laptop from the table and stealthily retreated to my room.

Initially, I had some concerns about Lynn's ability to keep up with the pace of his studies, but now it seemed that my worries were unfounded.

Lynn's POV

It was already midnight by the time I finished writing the two exam papers, with over ten minutes to spare before the set time. I stretched my neck from side to side, hearing a satisfying crack in my bones. Suddenly, I remembered something and turned my head to look behind me, only to find the sofa empty. Marilyn had already left the living room.

I turned back around and sat quietly for a while, my eyes cast down as I contemplated something.

After completing my bedtime routine, I lay in bed, but sleep eluded me. I had completed two exam papers within four hours, and my mind was unusually active. At that moment, my thoughts were consumed by the mention of a person named "Lucas" by Dr. Glu and Marilyn earlier that day.

During my time at Red Moonpack, Marilyn had never introduced me to any relatives or friends. She only provided me with her own phone number, the maid's number, and her assistant's number.

Despite living together, I suddenly realized how little I knew about Marilyn.

I didn't even know her age this year.

And this person named "Lucas" seemed to have a significant connection with her...

Raising my arm, I rested it on my forehead, remaining awake for half an hour. Then, I picked up my phone from the bedside table. Opening the browser, I typed "Marilyn" into the search bar.

The search results were limited, mostly revolving around the news of Marilyn's mother's recent passing in the past three months.

Keywords such as "Lanta family" and "deceased" filled my screen. I scrolled down, quickly skimming through a few sensational and false news articles.

Suddenly, a wave of realization washed over me, and I halted my finger's movement, aware that I was intruding on Marilyn's privacy in a rather disturbing manner.

A wave of shame tightly gripped my heart, causing my brows to furrow. I was about to close the browser, but a bold red headline caught my eye: "Red Moonpack Alpha Lucas Calls Off Engagement with Fiancée Marilyn Lanta, Turns to Silver Moonpack Alliance Due to Love and Hatred..."

The news had been published a year ago, back when I was just starting to explore the online world and was still unfamiliar with the attention-seeking tactics used by tabloids. My finger hesitated over the headline, shocked by the mention of "fiancée," leaving me unable to gather my thoughts.

In the end, I chose not to click and delve into the detailed content. My mind absentmindedly closed the browser, and I set my phone aside, slowly rising from the bed.

As a teenager who hadn't even reached the age of nineteen, the concept of engagement felt like a distant future, something reserved for the latter part of my life. But for Marilyn, it was different.

Suddenly, I realized how young and immature I was, still in the midst of physical and emotional growth. In Marilyn's eyes, I might have been nothing more than a child who had yet to fully mature.

For some reason, this realization filled me with an overwhelming sense of sadness.

In the quiet of the midnight hour, I leaned against the headboard, feeling a piercing ache deep within me.

Waves of agony relentlessly tugged at my chest, tormenting my slowly pulsating heart, accompanied by a dull throbbing in my veins and muscles.

I found myself consumed by uncontrollable and scattered thoughts, my gaze piercing through the darkness towards the wall that connected to Marilyn's bedroom. It took me a while to snap back to reality when I heard the sound of the door lock turning.

In the house, it was just Marilyn and me, so there was no mistaking who stood outside the door. The door swung open almost soundlessly, allowing the gentle moonlight to spill into the room, serving as a reminder that I had forgotten to lock it.

Normally, I kept the curtains tightly closed, casting a dimness that felt like a heavy shroud engulfing the room, with only a faint glow streaming in from the doorway.

I reached out and flicked on the light, my gaze fixed on Marilyn as she stood at the entrance, dressed in a flowing white nightgown. The person who had occupied my thoughts mere moments ago now stood before me. I pressed my lips together, as if on the verge of calling her "sis…," but in an instant, I realized the weight of that term and swallowed it back, acknowledging the disparity in our ages.

Marilyn appeared to be sleepwalking, her feet bare, gliding softly across the light gray floor, her gaze focused as she made her way towards me on the bed.

Having been harmed by her twice before during her sleepwalking episodes, when she often had a penchant for touching my ears, I instinctively raised my hand to shield them, placing my hand behind me and leaning my upper body backward.

However, this time Marilyn didn't approach me for my ears. Before I could react, she lifted the covers that lay over my waist and gracefully climbed into bed. Her warm and tender body slipped beneath the sheets, and her slender and fair arm draped across my waist, resting gently on top. While I remained stunned, still holding my hands over my ears, Marilyn had nestled herself beside me, closing her eyes as if peacefully asleep.

I sat on the bed, closer to the door, and as Marilyn settled down, she pressed herself against me, almost intimately close. Her hands and feet were chilled, cooled by the air conditioning, and it seemed as though she sought the warmth of a young boy's body, unconsciously inching closer.

Her beautiful cheek, barely concealed by her thin sleepwear, rested against my thigh. My breath caught, and my entire body stiffened, unsure of how to respond. A certain part of me trembled slightly, reacting to the touch.

I widened my eyes, gazing down at Marilyn with a mix of anxiety and bewilderment. A rush of blood colored my face, and my hand froze in mid-air, as if I were a wooden figure engulfed in flames.

My heart beneath my chest pounded uncontrollably, "thump, thump," as if a mighty bell tolled deep within me, reverberating through my eardrums and leaving my mind in a daze.

I never expected Marilyn to join me in bed, let alone in such close proximity.

The young boy's body gradually grew warm, and a certain part became increasingly difficult to contain, semi-erect. In just a short half-minute, a thin layer of sweat formed on my back.

I turned my head away, forcing myself to look elsewhere. A sharp and defined line traced the contours of her slender jaw, and a thin vein protruded from her reddened neck. The light illuminated the turmoil in my eyes, yet ultimately, I couldn't resist the urge to turn my head back and fix my gaze upon Marilyn's peaceful sleeping face.

My thick lashes trembled incessantly as I blinked, seemingly ashamed of taking advantage of her vulnerability, yet reluctant to divert my gaze from her. Before long, the tips of my ears noticeably reddened once again.

"Sister..." I called out to her in a low voice, but my words dissipated into the tranquil night, receiving no response.

My inner wolf was eager and restless, prowling within my mind, but I failed to notice.

I clenched my fist tightly and then slowly relaxed it. Extending my hand, I intended to gently wake Marilyn, but I hesitated as I didn't know where to place my hand on her body. When my gaze swept over her exposed fair skin, my hand froze, unsure of what to do.

My slender fingers fidgeted aimlessly for a moment before cautiously resting on her forearm, which held me close to her waist.

"Sister..." I softly pushed her, careful not to exert too much force.

"Mmm..." Marilyn murmured unconsciously, but she remained asleep. Her brows furrowed slightly as she held onto the frail waist of the young boy, nuzzling against him like a cat.

A surge of emotions overwhelmed my chest, causing my collar to loosen, revealing a vast expanse of unexpectedly pristine white skin. I struggled to relax my body for a brief moment, only to become as rigid as stone again. I quickly withdrew my hand, my Adam's apple bobbing in my throat, too afraid to make any further movements.

Several strands of hair cascaded loosely before me and over my shoulders. I stared at them for a while, then suddenly picked up my phone from beside me, turned on the camera in silent mode, and clumsily aimed it at a certain spot. Pressing the shutter, I took a photo.

The image on the phone screen stood frozen, devoid of Marilyn's visage or even a glimpse of her alluring fair skin.

The photograph, occupying the entire screen, exuded a muted and ethereal quality, with only a subtle wisp of golden hair cascading onto the pillow, occupying an unassuming corner of the frame.

Only I, and I alone, would ever know the true owner of that solitary strand of hair. Setting the phone aside, I tenderly adjusted the covers over Marilyn, refraining from any attempt to rouse her from her slumber.