「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(254) Ruthless Criminal

Lynn's POV

"So you believe me now?" Scott taunted in an arrogant tone.

"No, Scott. But I imagine he may have invaluable information for us," Charles refuted calmly.

"Yeah, sure," Scott mumbled sarcastically, sulking in defeat, but Charles merely smiled with his inherent compassion as he turned his gaze to Jubilee.

"Jubilee, would you be so kind to pack Lynn's things, please? Also, make sure that all her medication has been refilled," Charles requested politely.

"Leave it to me, Professor," Jubilee replied confidently with a gleeful smile.

"I'll ready the plane," Scott promptly volunteered and Charles smiled at him in utmost appreciation.

"Thank you, Scott," Charles acknowledged sincerely and Scott flashed a weak smile at us.

"Suit up. We'll meet you guys in the hangar," Charles declared amiably and they both nodded, swiftly wandering off to their respective businesses.

Quickly, or as quickly as we could manage, Charles and I swapped out our casual ensembles into more formal counterparts for the unscripted visitation.

It was easier for him, without the extraneous bandages, and by the time he had slipped into his crisp white dress shirt and spruced dark trousers, I was still having half of my leggings on.

The elastic material was perhaps comfortable but, in situations as such, it was thoroughly annoying. Snapping back towards the large gauze at every adventitious instant, the springy fabric constantly interfered with the surgical tape that had my dressing loosely fastened, threatening to rip it off my open wound, and I was so close to just snipping them off until Charles willingly intervened.

Skilfully, Charles scrunched the soft cotton together with both his hands, a task my telekinesis was unfortunately not yet nimble enough to achieve, and prudently maneuvered it over the moderately porous layer, finally relieving me of the frustrating burden.

With contrasting fluency, I guided my maroon pinstriped pants sporting a slightly relaxed fit and much sturdier textile onto my dead legs independently, and the rest of our outfits was practically a breeze.

Charles topped off his attire with a coordinating single-breasted waistcoat and blazer, all shaded in a dashing navy coat, while I pulled on a plain tank top and donned my matching jacket. Unmistakably, if it was a staple to keep my marred legs fully covered, the only option remained to perk up their colours and patterns to liven up my wardrobe. 

Leaving our outerwear neatly unbuttoned for comfort, we slotted on some shoes, shined black oxfords for Charles and similarly sleek patent heels for myself, and headed directly to regroup with Scott and Jubilee.

As Charles and I buckled ourselves into the back row couple seats, Jubilee diligently stowed our manual chairs to their designated stations and Scott duly completed the last preparations before smoothly piloting us into the skies.

Surely, the narrow window panes designed just adequately for safe flying had limited the view of puffy clouds specking the boundless blue, and even more hindered from our positions was the breathtaking scenery, but in the wondrous company of Charles, the lack of panoramic sights fell ordinary.

Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, Charles held my hand dearly and I rested my head against his chest, wholly absorbed by the regular beats thumping from within. Unwittingly, my eyelids grew heavier with the rhythmic pulse and monotonous hums around us, naturally shutting as I drifted off into a slumber but it was no more than a short wink.