The Nerd Duchess

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"I am perfectly fine," the red-haired girl had said with a polite smile on her face, adjusting the glasses on her face. She looked at the woman standing at the foot of the bed. "I apologize but I can't accept your offer because I do not need a psychiatrist."

"Oh really?" the raven-haired at the end of the bed said.

"Yes, I really." The redhead tilted her head to an angle that made the lenses glint, obscuring the raven-haired woman's view of the pair of green-eyes looking at her. "So I assure you that you are merely wasting your time with me, Dr. Pernice. I do not need professional help."

Dr. Francesca Pernice looked at the stubborn redhead on the bed. She had been persuading the redhead for almost an hour and there was no progress. She had known from the file that she had been given by the doctor who had referred her to herself about the incident that had happened a couple of weeks ago. She had known about the amnesia, the death of brother, the dead brother's vengeful ex-fiancée's orchestrated kidnapping, and all the other things the girl had experienced.

She had known that it would be difficult, especially since she had been told of the girl's closed off dispositions. However, she had not expected it to be this difficult. In her five-year career the duchess would probably her most stubborn patient yet.

She looked at the silver watch strapped around her wrist, looking the time. It is almost time for her next appointment.

She sighed. It would seem that she would have to change strategies and wait it out until the girl would be ready talk.

"Seems you're right, Miss Williamson," she said. "I am not need here right now. However, when you change your mind." She produced a small card from her ledger and placed in on the bedside table. "Know that I am always welcome to listen."

Anya said, that polite smile on her face never faltering. "I'm keeping my options open."

Dr. Pernice nodded biding her farewell and walking outside the door, leaving the redhead on her own thoughts.

***

Charles had taken the opportunity to fly out of England and to Italy the first chance he got. Having known of the three-day weekend in advance, he had used it as an opportunity to check on Anya whom from the e-mails he had been receiving from Ryan had been rejecting the psychiatrist that the hospital had assigned to her and has been more closed off than usual.

He walked down the hallway passed the couple of guards that had been stationed at the door that led to the redhead's hospital room.

Opening the door, he walked in the room. The room was still the same as when he last visited. Tons of bouquets of flowers placed around the room. The room was enveloped in the pleasing aroma of the red roses Charles spied placed near the opened window.

But Charles stopped admiring the flowers returning to his mission at hand. His eyes diverted towards the red head perched on the middle of the bed with a laptop on her lap and earphones covering her ears.

Charles looked at the red head on the bed, completely engrossed by what she was doing in the computer. She didn't notice the raven-haired who was looking at her by the doorway of her room. Charles smirked. She is always sharp that it was a surprise that she hasn't notice him yet.

A few more moments passed before a smirk appeared on her face and she spoke. "Take a picture that'll last longer."

Charles smirked before a chuckle tore from his lips. He watched her looked up from whatever she was doing in her laptop, discarding the earphones she wore as he made his way to the arm chair at her side.

"I don't need it when I can see the original," Charles replied as he sat himself on chair. He took a pick at the laptop screen and saw a movie playing. "What are you watching, Anya?"

"Game of Thrones," Anya replied as moved to the side. "Wanna watch?" she patted the place beside her.

Charles looked at her and he could see the smile in her face as it lit in excitement. But even then, Charles could see that underlying sadness in them, even with the glasses she wore. He could also see the underlying message in her eyes.

"Just go with what I want and don't ask."

The pair glasses she wore are completely different to what he had seen her used at the Academy. The black colored thick-rimmed glasses she had always worn had long been discarded and had been replaced with the silver think-rimmed glasses that she favors so much.

He had learn earlier, back when they had been reacquainting each other (settling the fact that they had been childhood friend) before Charles was whisked back to Cross for a week, that the black glasses had all part of the disguise she had been sporting since she started studying in Cross. And even if it was disguise, she really needed it because she really had bad eyesight.

The brown colored irises she had had also been part of the get up. The contact lenses had hidden her vibrant green eyes that had help in keeping her identity hidden. It is not like the brunette colored hair hasn't done that job already. But still, Charles could guess that Anya s very thorough with what she had been doing.

"So?" Anya's voice pierced through him, breaking him from his reprieve. "Do you want to watch or not?"

"Okay, okay," Charles said standing up from the chair and moving to the bed. He kicked off his shoes and took of his leather jacket throwing it on the chair he had been occupying.

"So what season are we in?"

"I'm doing it from the beginning," Anya said. "So we are back―"

"To season one?"

Anya nodded.

"Got it. What episode are you in?" he asked Anya pressed play.

"Just finished with the third episode," Anya said, looking at Charles from the corner of her eyes.

"Guess that means I'll be starting with the fourth one," Charles said, as he snaked his arms around Anya's waist and pulled her towards him as she handed him one of the ear pods. He pulled them back until they had been leaning against head board of the bed.

That is one thing that Charles likes about this hospital it that their beds despite being a hospital bed that has all the functions of one, still looks like that of a normal bed with normal looking headboards.

He also love the fact that Anya and him had managed in to slipping back to their old routine back when they had somehow managed to become decent friends as they 'fake date' their way every day at the Academy. The awkwardness that he thought would surface because of the knowledge of their history seem to become of little significance to any of them. Though that knowledge had also made him the close confidante for Ryan to babble about Anya's condition, and Charles being the best friend his way decided on doing something for not only him, but for everyone else.

So there they were spending the afternoon on bed having a marathon of the first season of the Game of Thrones completely oblivious to the world around them and forgetting their worries as they enjoyed each other's company.

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