A Love Rekindled (Nancy and Bruce)

I hadn't expected Bruce to come and bring me medicine so late at night.

For a moment, I felt both bewildered and guilty. But then, considering our meager relationship, it wouldn't make sense for Bruce to go through all this trouble just for me. So, I guessed that it might be related to the couple's chat.

As I looked at the code I'd been happily working on, an inexplicable feeling of annoyance suddenly washed over me.

I softly thanked Bruce for the medicine-deliberately avoiding the matter-and politely said, "I'm not done with my code yet, so I won't be sending you off, Mr. Harold."

Basically, I was chasing him out.

Bruce was taken aback.

He stood rooted in his spot as his gaze swept over my mittens. He shot me a puzzled look. "Didn't you turn the heater on?"

The heater? Did he think this was Roeval Group?

In old office buildings like ours, having air conditioning was miraculous enough, let alone a heater.

I forced a smile. "I'm not cold."

However, Bruce didn't respond to me. Instead, he unexpectedly picked up a nearby office chair and sat down.

I guessed that he wouldn't leave until I showed him a satisfying product. So, I switched to the couple's chat and asked, "What other changes do you wish to make, Mr. Harold?" Bruce slid the office chair closer to me and glanced at my work. "The saturation isn't enough."

What a familiar line.

Unsurprised, I swiftly answered, "Give me ten minutes."

Bruce hummed and shifted his gaze to the bookshelf nearby. Then, at the next moment, his well-defined fingers landed on one of the books.

I heard him ask, "When did you become interested in detective novels?"

I glanced over and realized that Bruce was holding the detective novel that Douglas had given me.

I'd flipped through it a few times when things had gotten rough, but I didn't know how Bruce came to the conclusion that I'd become a fan of detective novels.

I evaded the question. "The story is good, and the plot is interesting."

"Oh," Bruce hummed.

Judging from his lame response, I wisely kept silent and focused on editing my code.

།

Then, late into the night, neither of us spoke again. Only the sound tapping on the keyboard and the occasionally flipping of pages could be heard in the spacious office. en.swhovels.net

It was both noisy and eerie.

After a while, I finally completed the task and asked, "Is this okay, Mr. Harold?"

"Let me see." Bruce slid the office chair, instantly closing the distance between us.

Just as I moved the mouse, the light suddenly went out, followed by the monitor blacking out.

I sighed. "The power must have tripped. Let me have a look at it."

I reminded Bruce to move aside, and after doing so, I tried to get up.

However, I ended up accidentally putting my hands on Bruce's warm ones.

I quickly putted away. But instantly, Bruce gripped my right hand back Then, his fingers intertwined with mine tightly pressed against the back of my palm and snugly fitting there.

His hand was warm, and it was a sharp contrast to my icy, cold ones.

I flushed red as I felt my breath growing erratic, and in the dim light, I saw Bruce's Adam apple bobbing.

We were too close.

I awkwardly tried to pull my hand back. But suddenly, Bruce pulled me into his arms.

Then, he tightly held onto my hands and placed them around his waist, as if it was only second nature to do so.

Through the thin fabric, I could faintly feel the clear lines of his waist.

In the next moment, Bruce's scent washed over me and stirred up a sense of danger from within myself.

Then, I anxiously called out to Bruce, my voice tinged with caution.

"Your

are cold." Bruce's voice

was a little hoarse, and he spoke as if he was simply talking about the weather. "Let's warm them

"No need for that." I shook my head.

However, Bruce ignored my response, and instead of letting me go, he held me even tighter.

"Be a good girl, Nance."