What Separates Me and You

"Thanks for your effort." Lewis hurled the towel away effortlessly.

That didn't sound like a compliment, but Josephine couldn't distinguish his tone-she thought he really was praising her.

She flashed him a grin and shook her head. "It's nothing. You woke up just because I was wiping your face. How amazing is that?"

Lewis' lips moved, but it was only after some time before he hummed in agreement and said, "It is pretty amazing."

In truth, he woke up because he had difficulty breathing, but, in some sense, it was remarkable she could arouse him.

Josephine's grin grew wider. She sat beside Lewis and clutched his arm with both hands. "You must get better faster, okay? You still need to take me home."

Lewis turned his head to the other side and closed his eyes, dismissing her statement.

Josephine got up and went to his left side, saying, "Why aren't you speaking? Have you decided not to take me home?"

Lewis turned his head again. Josephine relentlessly returned to the other side.

Veins bulged on Lewis' forehead.

Josephine noticed he was getting mad and looked at him, confused. "What's got into you?"

"Can you please be a bit quieter?"

Josephine blinked. Instead of keeping her mouth shut, she pressed on, asking, "So, will you bring me home?"

Lewis sighed and closed his eyes helplessly.

His silence triggered an anxious response from Josephine. "Why aren't you speaking?"

Mrs. Larson returned and, on seeing that, pulled Josephine aside. "Madam, Mr. Alvarez needs to rest. Let's talk to him after he has recovered." Josephine glanced at the man on the bed. "But..."

"He can't leave now even if he agrees to your request, so please stop asking about that."

Josephine thought that made sense, so she gave up and went to her seat beside Lewis.

In a very soft voice-more like a whisper-she said to Lewis, "Lewis, I'll shut up. You must get well soon."

Lewis opened his eyes and stared intently at her. She looked genuinely worried, but he couldn't discern whether she was worried about him or about going home.

After several moments, Lewis propped himself upright in bed and looked at her while leaning against the headboard.

Josephine asked, "Aren't you going to rest?"

"I've had enough rest."

"So soon? Then is your sickness healed?"

Lewis pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Josephine sheepishly covered her mouth with her hand, indicating she would shut up for good.

Lewis picked up his phone and phoned Conrad, asking him about his progress in the search for Quintin.

Conrad answered, "I'm still on it. Phineas brought a dog, and it caught Quintin's scent. We may be able to find him soon."

Lewis hummed in agreement.

Somewhere in the mountains, a silhouette was running like the wind with a group of people hot on his heels. It was almost dark, and his vision was limited in the woods. As he ran, Quintin secretly cursed that bastard Lewis for sending his men after him even though he had already agreed to the divorce.

Several men emerged from the woods when he was halfway down the mountains earlier on. He immediately realized they were there for him and started running without delay. These men were professionals. He couldn't outrun them; he could only vault himself over the railing and run into the woods.

He temporarily left them behind with the help of the dim surroundings and complex terrain but also got lost himself, unable to find his way out. He ran in loops amidst the woods for one whole day and night. He received no signal on his phone and could only wander around aimlessly. But alas, both sides met again, and Quintin could only start running for dear life once more. He wasn't sure who they were, but he knew he would be in for deep shit if they managed to catch him.

Quintin didn't have any food for the past day and was starving. On top of that, he had to evade his pursuers. These almost drove him insane.

Beams of light shone on him occasionally, and the rustle of footsteps was closer as time went by a sign that danger was near. Clenching his jaws, Quintin mustered all his energy and darted forward. They were on a mountain where the tracks were slopey and bumpy. All of a sudden, Quintin's feet slipped from beneath him, and he lost his balance. He cried out in shock as his body rolled downward uncontrollably. His mind went blank as the world around him whirled in dizzying circles.

His pursuers stopped at the slope and halted. Directing their flashlights downward, they could vaguely discern the figure of a man rolling further from them. "Do we give chase?"

The leader stared at Quintin's disappearing figure until he was totally out of sight. Deducing from the height of the slope, Quintin might either be dead or crippled by the time he reached the end. "Let's search for him from the other end."

Anyway, he wouldn't be able to escape these expansive woods.

The slope was indeed lengthy. Quintin's head knocked against a rock midway through, losing consciousness right after.

A person with a backpack was approaching the slope from the lower end. She instantly leaped out of the way when she saw something rolling down, but she was still too slow. Quintin was rolling down too quickly, and both collided in the blink of an eye.

The impact was huge. Quintin rolled into the other person's leg, and the impact caused her to fall backward. Her head hit a tree trunk, and she collapsed, landing precisely on Quintin.

After who knew how long, Quintin slowly stirred. He hissed in pain as he held his forehead, which hurt so much that he inhaled sharply.

Shaking his head, he was about to clamber to his feet when he realized something was on top of him. He reached out and shoved that "thing" aside. Sitting upright, he realized it was still dark. The morning wasn't here yet. "Well, on the brighter side," he thought, "I managed to throw my pursuers off."

"Oof..." A moan rang out beside Quintin, scaring him out of his wits.

He fumbled around on the ground and found a stone. He swung it at the stranger.

The stranger, who was actually Avery, detected danger and immediately rolled away, avoiding Quintin's attack. Quintin's move didn't hit its target, and the stone stabbed the ground instead. Then, a glaring beam shone on Quintin's face. He reached up to block the light under reflex.

Quintin had ceaselessly been on the run for two nights and one day continuously, and his temper soon flared. He yelled, "Fuck! I've already agreed to the divorce, so what else does that son of a bitch Lewis want from me?"

"Lewis?"

Quintin was stunned upon hearing this voice. Enduring the piercing beam, he put down his arm and looked before him. The stranger had short hair and wore a black outdoor jacket. Beside her was a massive backpack. She looked like a man, but the voice Quintin heard was that of a female. "Who are you?"

"And who are you? Why were you saying that Lewis was a son of a bitch?"

Quintin watched her, alert. "Who are you to Lewis?"

"I'm nobody to him, but you and I may be on the same side since you cursed him."

"Hm?" Quintin's head was in the clouds. They might be on the same side because he cursed Lewis, so did that mean this person before him was also Lewis' enemy? "Tsk," thought Quintin, "That son of a bitch has done lots of bad deeds, indeed. He makes foes wherever he goes; even a random person I meet can be his foe."

"He has my friend whom I can't reach for a long time now. I suspect something must've happened to her, so I sneak back, wanting to check out Lewis' secret base to see if he has my friend locked up."

Upon hearing that, Quintin sighed. "Then your friend might be in grief danger. You don't know what he keeps up there-numerous ferocious beasts. I witnessed him feeding someone he killed to his dogs. How sick can that be?"

"What?"