Plato?No Thanks Chapter 03
The energy in the room kept rising, and my head started getting fuzzy.
My phone buzzed in my pocket a few times.
I pulled it out—a WeChat message.
The sender was marked as 【Mr. Mitchell】.
I’d changed his name temporarily to remind myself: this guy is for admiring only, not for chasing.
【Ava, are you home?】
I rubbed my head and typed back:
【Yeah, I’m home. Why?】
The “typing…” indicator on the chat screen lasted a full minute.
【Aren’t you afraid of the dark?】
Last month, my power had gone out.
I’d pretended to be terrified of the dark, bombarding him with calls and texts, acting all cute, until I’d guilt-tripped him into coming over to spend the night.
But did that man care about what kind of pajamas I was wearing or how sweet my voice was?
Nope.
He emotionlessly tucked me into bed and read me bedtime stories for two hours.
【Yeah, but the little night light you gave me is on.】
“Typing…” for another two minutes.
【Then why is your room dark?】
!!!
I grabbed my phone, bolted out of the private room, and ran to a quieter second-floor balcony facing the street. Then I called him.
He picked up right away.
“How do you know where I live?”
There was a weird silence for a few seconds.
“Just passing by.”
“…”
Did you accidentally circle the whole city while “just passing by” my place?
Maybe even Liam realized how ridiculous that excuse sounded, because he added:
“Your stomach was hurting. I bought you some stuff. Where are you?”
Oh god. If Liam found out I was at a bar, he’d definitely figure out I faked my stomach ache.
Then he’d think I was even more annoying on purpose.
Not happening.
“I’m feeling way better. I’m out shopping with friends.”
“…It’s really loud there?”
I laughed nervously. “Y-Yeah! So don’t worry, Mr. Mitchell, I’m totally fine now.”
“…”, Liam stayed quiet for so long I thought he’d hung up. Then he said:
“Are you mad at me?”
“Huh?”
“The meeting ran long today. You were hurting and waiting for me, so you got mad and said you weren’t hurting anymore.”
Huh?
Sure, in the past, when he had long meetings, I’d spam him with cute messages rushing him.
But this time, his meeting had lasted like ten minutes.
“I’m not mad. Work’s obviously more important than me. I get that.”
I couldn’t act like before—say something like “Yeah, I’m mad, so kiss me” and get shot down with a cold stare.
Until he stopped thinking I was annoying, I was going to be a good,well-behaved girl.
“Mr. Mitchell, it’s getting late. You should get some rest. I’m gonna go eat with my friends, okay? Alright, bye—”
“Invite me.”
I blinked. “What?”
Liam’s voice was calm.
“I’ll eat too. Together.”
I quickly tried to laugh it off. “Mr. Mitchell, you’re still outside my place. You’re not with us, so—”
“Who told you I’m still outside your place?”
I was completely lost.
Through the receiver came that familiar, icy voice.
“Look down.”
Without thinking, I did.
A black car was parked under a streetlight across the road.
Liam leaned against it, phone to his ear.
He looked up, those deep, dark eyes fixed on me on the second floor. The pressure was overwhelming.
“Are you coming down, or am I coming up?”
I stood frozen, feet rooted to the ground like trees.
When the hell did Liam get here?