Royally Kissed | ✓

56; the psychological warfare

"Well, I can check out first if he's in there. I mean, if you want me to," suggested Aoife, just as a tiny, grateful smile played across her face.

Her shoulders descended heavily as she breathed, "Yeah. Sure. That'd be...great. Just call me if the coast's clear."

Aoife nodded. "Okay. Give me five minutes, eight tops."

"Alright," she replied, then watched Aoife finally pushing the door open and stepped out of the car; even as she paced towards the sleek, glassy building, Paige twisted in her seat and followed Aoife's departing figure.

Not even a minute later when she grew bored, particularly because neither any of the two guys at the front seats were interested in having a chat. Mstislav contented himself with just staring at his phone, watching some short clips from The Office, and she couldn't help but wonder why the man seemed to have run out of funny bones in his body. Turning to Malcolm, she assumed that he was napping although his jet-black glasses prevented her to say so.

Paige let out a sigh, and looked outside of her window at four o'clock. At the ground floor of the hospital, there was a Starbucks, a pharmacy, and a convenience store.

"I'm going out," she muttered, breaking the silence. "I'll just get something to drink at the store." Shoving her hood around her head, she got out and immediately heard a couple of footsteps trailing behind her–which she really didn't mind.

Once there, she quickly forced her palms against the glass door and tugged up a polite smile at the Indian guy behind the cash register. Aiming for the beverage area, her phone vibrated in the pocket of her sweatpants as she opened a cooler.

"Yup?" she answered, one hand busied with sieving through bottled teas and chocolate milk. "Is he there?"

"No. Only Cain and Robin," replied Aoife from the other end, just as Paige decided against the tea, and tiptoed to get a pack of Yakult instead. "I think you need to see Robin, too. Cain has mentioned that she barely eats."

Paige stifled her sigh, nudging the fridge close with her elbow as she reeled round. Then froze when she came face to face with Lola, who was just as surprised, her baby slung against her chest.

"Um, I'll be there," she said quietly to Aoife, swallowing the clod in her throat. "Just have to cap off something first."

As the call came to an end, Lola braved herself first and gingerly took several steps further into her direction. Paige couldn't help but feel claustrophobic as though the aisles were closing in between them, pressing the air until they were fizzed out completely.

"Hi, Paige," Lola's voice was even, confident but didn't seem like one who was arrogantly inflated.

"Hey." For some reason, even though she was considered her rival, she didn't feel any hint of hate towards Lola. She seemed too nice for that. Paige stared down at the baby, tiny head peacefully placed in her mother's breastbone. "Girl or boy?"

That quite eased the tension, because Lola quirked up an instant smile and caressed her child. "Girl. Her name's Willow."

Feeling the water that came from the pack in her palm, she tightened up her own smile. Not too open, but one that was friendly enough. "That's a nice name. What a beauty, she is."

Lola laughed softly. "Thanks. She really is," she added, before kissing the top of Willow's head. "I'm glad to see you here. I've been meaning to talk to you. Ever since what happened at Slingshot, actually."

"No." Paige shook her head, hoping she'd gotten the hint that it was all over for her. But she could've sworn that her cheeks were tinged in a deep rosy color, as talking to Lola suddenly made her feel awkward upon realizing that she had an intimate conversation with her man some nights ago. "T'was a long time ago. I've moved on so you and Arthur can rest easy now."