Sebastian Lockwood bent down and put the screw cap, which Timmy Lockwood had been using as a toy, back in its proper place.
"Uncle, that was my mom on the phone just now, so..." Sydney Sawyer tried to explain what had happened.
"So you think being seen with me is something to be ashamed of?"
"No, absolutely not!"
Sydney Sawyer frantically shook her head.
"First 'Uncle,' then 'Dad.' What are you planning on calling me next?" Sebastian Lockwood's tone suggested he was onto something.
Sydney Sawyer instantly realized something was off. She froze for a few seconds, then her face suddenly turned beet red!
'He doesn't think I have some kind of special kink or fetish, does he?'
"Uncle, I actually..."
Sydney Sawyer wanted to explain, but she was worried that Sebastian Lockwood wasn't thinking that at all. 'Wouldn't that just expose my own wicked thoughts?'
"Hm?"
"N-nothing. Are you building a cat house? Do you need my help?" Sydney Sawyer hurriedly changed the subject.
"You know how to do this?" Sebastian Lockwood asked.
"It shouldn't be a problem. I've assembled a bookshelf and other small things by myself before. But I need to go home and take a shower and change my clothes first."
Sydney Sawyer could still smell the lingering scent of alcohol on herself.
***
As soon as she got home, Sydney Sawyer let out a small sigh of relief and collapsed onto the sofa in defeat. She immediately called her friend. "What am I going to do? I'm so screwed."
"How much do you remember from last night?"
"I don't know if it was a dream or if it really happened, but he said he wanted to be my boyfriend."
The person on the other end of the line thought for two seconds. "You were dreaming."
"..."
"So you just slept at his place for one night, right? If nothing happened, what are you afraid of?"
"I almost called him 'Dad' just now. He probably thinks I have a weird fetish."
"You're usually so quiet. I never would have guessed. You're wilder than you look."
Sydney Sawyer spaced out in the living room for a while longer before dragging her heavy feet back to her room to shower, her head hanging low.
She silently gritted her teeth and swore to herself, 'Never again will I drink.'
***
About an hour later, Sydney Sawyer knocked on the door next door.
Sebastian Lockwood had already built the basic frame of the cat house. The remaining work was just screwing in the rest of the wooden slats—all muscle, no brainpower required.
"Uncle, let me," Sydney Sawyer offered.
"It's almost done. You can help by keeping an eye on the cat. Don't let it play with the screws again."
Sydney Sawyer wanted to help, partly to make up for the guilt she felt about last night. 'Judging by Sebastian Lockwood's behavior this morning,' she thought, 'I must have done something awful to him yesterday.'
She petted the cat while watching him.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing long, well-defined hands. He was holding a screwdriver, tightening screws into the wooden slats. From the lines of his wrist bones to the knuckles of his fingers, every part of him seemed to exude an artistic quality.
Just then, his phone, which was on the table, vibrated. Sebastian Lockwood casually stood up and walked to the other side of the room to answer it. "Hello, Mom..."
Bored, Sydney Sawyer squatted in front of the cat house, glanced at the instruction manual on the side, and started screwing the slats into place.
However, snippets of Sebastian Lockwood's phone conversation drifted over to her.
Because of the distance, she couldn't hear clearly, but she vaguely caught words like "go home" and "Aethelgard."
From the dinner party last night, Sydney Sawyer had gathered that Sebastian Lockwood and the others were in Keston for a medical research project and wouldn't be staying long. 'Is he leaving so soon?'
They had only just met again after so long; Sydney Sawyer couldn't bear the thought of him leaving. She instantly grew agitated.
Although tightening screws was physical work, it still required focus. She held a screw steady with one hand and twisted the screwdriver with the other. But her mind was elsewhere, and with a slip of her hand, the screwdriver scraped across the back of her other hand.
"Hiss—" She let out a muffled grunt of pain. A red mark instantly appeared on the back of her hand.
"Mom, something's come up. I have to go." Without waiting for a reply, Sebastian Lockwood quickly hung up and walked over, taking her hand to examine it.
Her skin was fair and sensitive. The area around the scratch was already swelling up rapidly, making it look quite serious.
"Does it hurt?" Sebastian Lockwood asked in a low voice.
His finger gently brushed against the edge of the stinging, burning scratch.
With her hand in his, Sydney Sawyer felt her whole body go rigid. Her heart seemed to stop, a blush crept up her neck and ears, and her small face grew even more vivid and charming.
"It doesn't hurt," she answered in a small voice.
"Sit on the sofa. I'll get some ice for you to put on it."
Sebastian Lockwood moved quickly. He got some ice from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and handed it to her to apply to the injury. "I don't have any medicine at home. Wait for me, I'll be right back."
Sydney Sawyer figured it was just a scratch. The skin wasn't broken, so it wasn't a big deal. At worst, the back of her hand would be swollen for a couple of days. But before she could say anything, Sebastian Lockwood had already opened the door and left.
Downstairs at the entrance to the apartment building, he ran into the property manager on patrol, who greeted him with a smile. "Dr. Lockwood, you have the day off?"
"Yeah," Sebastian Lockwood replied evenly.
Handsome and with a good job, he had naturally made a deep impression on the property manager.
"That cat you posted about in the group chat last time, that was yours, right?"
"Yes. Sorry, I'm in a hurry..."
With that, he hurried away. The property manager stared at his retreating back and muttered to himself:
'What's he in such a rush for? He even came out in slippers.'
Usually, whenever he saw Sebastian Lockwood, the man was always in formal attire. Why was he dressed so casually today?
***
In about a quarter of an hour, Sebastian Lockwood returned. He had bought iodine, anti-swelling ointment, and some cotton swabs. Although he was a doctor, he hadn't been in Keston for long and spent most of his time at the hospital, so he didn't keep any medical supplies at home.
"I think it's much better after icing it. It doesn't need ointment," Sydney Sawyer said, holding her hand out to him.
"It'll heal faster with medicine."
As he spoke, Sebastian Lockwood had already twisted open the cap of the ointment. With Sydney Sawyer sitting on the sofa, he naturally bent down into a half-squat, took her hand, and used a cotton swab to dab the ointment onto the scratch.
He had just rushed downstairs to the pharmacy, and his palm was still warm from the hurry. Her hand, in contrast, was cold to the touch from the ice pack.
The contrast of hot and cold, combined with his gentle, tender movements—as if he were caring for a precious treasure—sent a tingle through her entire body.
From her vantage point, looking down, she could see his profile.
The thin-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose cast a light shadow beneath his eyes, giving him a clear and refined look.
"Uncle..."
"Hm?" Sebastian Lockwood looked up at her. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." Sydney Sawyer pressed her lips together slightly. She wanted to ask what really happened last night, but she was afraid that if she did, she wouldn't be able to face him afterward.
Sebastian Lockwood tilted his head up to look at her. The angle made her heart inexplicably speed up.
"Syd."
"Hm?"
He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing the uninjured part of her skin. It felt as if he were lightly scraping against her heart, sending her pulse into disarray.
Then, his low voice reached her ears:
"You really think of me as your uncle?"