Chapter 143
“Zinnia, let me help him drink,” Jackson said, surprised to see Yannis being so docile for once. While it was good that Yannis was finally willing to drink Jackson didn’t want to tire out Zinnia, so he decided to take over.
“It’s alright, Jackson. Let me handle this. You should rest for a while,” Zinnia said, glancing at Jackson with concern.
Yannis tugged at Zinnia’s sleeve, whining in a clingy tone, “Zinnia, I’m so thirsty.” He hadn’t felt this parched until he took a sip of water.
Zinnia didn’t have time to talk to Jackson, focusing entirely on helping Yannis drink.
“Zinnia, you’re the best,” Yannis said with a tipsy smile.
Jackson just couldn’t bear to watch. After all these years of friendship, he’d never seen Yannis act so clingy and spoiled. He thought, ‘What the hell is going on with him?‘
Yannis’s smile quickly faded when the beeping from the kitchen signaled the sobering soup was ready.
Seeing his chance, Jackson scooted closer to the two of them and said, “Zinnia, let me take over.”
“Thanks, Jackson,” Zinnia said. She handed Jackson the cup. Then she gently settled Yannis’s head on the armrest of the sofa as a pillow, then headed
the kitchen.
“Yannis, drink,” Jackson ordered, having none of Zinnia’s patience. He hunched over, yanked Yannis upright, and shoved the cup toward his mouth.
Yannis stubbornly clamped his mouth shut and turned his head away.
“Drink,” Jackson insisted, pressing the cup to his lips.
Yannis kept his lips tightly shut. He lifted his heavy–lidded gaze to Jackson, ready to strike at any moment. Recognizing the vaguely familiar outline of Jackson’s face, Yannis paused.
Then he lazily closed his eyes again. “Stay away from me,” he muttered, his hoarse voice icy with dismissal. Ignoring Jackson, he wrenched free from his grip before collapsing back onto the sofa.
Jackson let out an exasperated laugh. He’d known Yannis for years, and it was only in the past two years that he had stopped getting roughed up on this
day.
Before that, every time they drank together on this date, Jackson always ended up taking a beating.
Ever since James had Yannis thrown into military training as a kid, Yannis could beat anyone. Even when drunk, his instincts stayed razor–sharp. Anyone who got too close was just asking for a beating.
Jackson had known Yannis long enough that Yannis had finally stopped hitting him. Though even when drunk, Yannis still treated Jackson with disdain.
What Jackson didn’t expect was this blatant double standard: the way Yannis became docile around Zinnia, like a proud lion bowing its head in submission. He couldn’t fathom where this side of Yannis came from.
“Jackson, the sobering soup is ready. You should have some first,” Zinnia said gently as she came out of the kitchen, carrying two bowls of sobering soup. She offered one bowl of sobering soup to Jackson.
“Thanks, Zinnia. You’ve worked hard,” Jackson said as he took the bowl.
Zinnia glanced back at Yannis, who had somehow managed to end up face down on the sofa again, his head buried deep in the cushions.
She couldn’t help but worry he might suffocate, so she bent down and gently turned him onto his back to help him breathe easier.
“Yannis, wake up. Let’s drink some sobering soup,” Zinnia coaxed, trying to pull his head toward her. But he was dead weight, she couldn’t budge him an
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Chapter 143
inch.
Jackson watched in astonishment as Yannis let Zinnia boss him around without a word. After the initial shock, it finally dawned on him: Yannis w ultimate double standard.
In her haste, Zinnia’s fingers tugged at Yannis’s collar, pulling open two buttons and accidentally exposing half his shoulder. Her fingertip inadver grazed his skin, leaving a faint red mark. Seeing this, Zinnia instantly flushed with guilt.
Jackson’s eyebrow twitched at the sight of Yannis’s exposed shoulder. He set the bowl on the table and said, “Zinnia, let me handle this.”
Jackson bent down and buttoned Yannis’s shirt up tightly. Just as Yannis, still groggy, started to sway toward Zinnia, Jackson swiftly grabbed him pulled him back.
Jackson warned, “Don’t you dare lean on Zinnia! You reek of booze. What if you make her smell like a bar?”
Yannis’s heavy eyelids fluttered halfway open, his gaze hazy with alcohol. It took him a full second to process what Jackson had said.
Then, turning clumsily, he stared at Zinnia crouched by the sofa, squinting as if trying to burn her features into his alcohol–fogged mind.
Zinnia had taken a bath and casually twisted her hair into a bun, with a few strands of hair sticking to her cheeks.
She looked very demure and beautiful, just like the beautiful cat that Yannis had kept when he was a child. Only in the end, it died.
Yannis suddenly grabbed her wrist, his eyes wide open. With stubborn, earnest determination, he spoke each word slowly and deliberately, “Zinnia, protect you. I swear.”
Noticing he wouldn’t take his eyes off her, Zinnia was puzzled, not quite sure what he meant.
Yannis didn’t say anything further, his eyes drooping heavily. Exhaustion weighed on him. Every inch of his body ached, his mind swimming in a haze.
Whether he’d finally figured things out or just given up, he went limp, letting Jackson drag him by the collar without resistance.
Zinnia held the bowl, bracing for resistance, but to her surprise, Yannis drank obediently.
him.
he fed Yannis spoonful after spoonful while Jackson steadie
Jackson thought, ‘So that’s how it is. This guy only acts special around Zinnia. Looks like they are
getting along pretty well after all.‘
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