Love Unspoken

Quinn observed him, and before she could utter a word, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. Her arms instinctively wound around his neck, her eyes tracing the contours of his jawline before shyly drifting downward. Gently, Alexander laid her on the bed, taking her hand into his to examine it. The scabs on her wrist were beginning to flake away, revealing the tender, raw skin beneath. He held her hand, a soft look in his eyes as he studied it for a moment before turning to face her. "Does it still hurt?" he asked.

Quinn shook her head, her expression devoid of any pain. He touched her hand lightly, his eyes radiating a warmth that seemed almost like an illusion of tenderness. Quinn closed her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze.

He was always like this. With just a few words, she could deceive herself and then lose herself in the fantasy she had woven. The air was thick with tension as Alexander watched her reaction.

Suddenly, a jarring ringtone shattered the quiet. He released her hand and stepped away to answer the call. Quinn opened her eyes and turned to see him speaking in hushed tones, his back to her, before he exited the bedroom without a backward glance.

She pressed her lips together, reaching for the blanket beside her and clutching it tightly to her chest. Just as she closed her eyes, a buzzing filled her head. She clutched at her skull, a pained expression crossing her face. The buzzing was quickly followed by a stabbing sensation, as if countless needles were piercing her all at once.

She lay curled up on the bed alone, her shoulders trembling slightly. It was some time before she began to feel a bit better. Staring at the ceiling, it seemed the sensations were getting worse. She closed her eyes, her arms dropping lifelessly to either side, the bedroom eerily silent.

to see Getty again, huh?' Quinn tossed and turned, only managing to fall asleep when dawn was approaching, and even then, it was a shallow, restless sleep lasting merely a couple of hours

so she got up to prepare breakfast. After serving two portions, she knocked on the office door.

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stairs, she sat at the dining table, sipping her porridge and staring at the plate across from her, the food in her mouth as tasteless as cardboard. When she

her department, the people around her gave her strange looks. Maria leaned over the cubicle wall and asked, "Quinn, aren't you on a month's leave? Back to work

here," said Maria. "Aside from Getty, who used

some files and tapped on her desk. Realizing she had company, Maria awkwardly greeted her with a nod.

handing her a document. "Quinn, take a look at this. If you've got time

more approachable than Maria, especially with that