Chapter 20: Being Looked Down Upon

"Killian?" Tara looked at him in surprise.

Killian’s sharp brows were knitted slightly, and his eyes were dark with concern. "How did you fall in? Are you hurt anywhere?"

His black athletic tank top and shorts were soaking wet. Combining this with the suffocating sensation of exercise she had felt through their connection, Tara guessed he had probably run twenty kilometers from the office and just happened to be passing by.

And, he had happened to pull her out.

Destiny is a strange thing,

she thought.

Tara shook her head. "My bag accidentally fell in, so I jumped in to get it."

She intentionally omitted the part about being harassed by the youths. However, an older lady nearby spoke up indignantly for her.

"Young man, are you her boyfriend? Did you know your girlfriend was being harassed by a group of punks just now?"

"And those hoodlums were the ones who threw her bag into the lake!"

The woman’s thick dialect was hard for Tara to understand, but Killian’s face darkened visibly.

"Can you walk?" Killian asked, looking at the pale, water-soaked scrape on her knee.

"I think so."

Tara propped herself up and took two limping steps. It was okay at first, but after another step, a sharp pain shot through her knee, making her stumble.

Killian strode forward and caught her.

"Forget it." He gave a light sigh, then suddenly crouched down. "Get on. I'll carry you."

Tara looked at his broad, solid back. After a moment of hesitation, she gently leaned onto him.

"Thank you, Killian," she whispered, her hands carefully hooking over his shoulders.

The soft sensation pressed against his back. Killian didn't speak. He reached back, his hands forming polite fists just above her knees, and easily lifted her up.

"I'll have someone retrieve the bag for you later," he said calmly.

Tara shook her head. "It's fine. No need."

"It only had a tablet inside, but after being soaked this long, it's probably ruined anyway."

Her eyes grew dim, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, falling silent. Killian tilted his head slightly, sensing her obvious dejection. He didn't offer verbal comfort but looked ahead with narrowed eyes, silently carrying her out of the plaza.

Ten minutes later, in a women's clothing store.

Killian sat Tara down on a sofa and said to the clerk, "Find a few sets of clothes suitable for her."

"Of course." The clerk went to look.

Tara looked back at Killian. The midsummer night wasn't cold. Unlike Tara, who was still soaking wet, his clothes had mostly air-dried, with only his tank top still slightly damp.

"Killian, there's no need to buy new clothes. I can just change when I get back."

As she spoke, her nose tickled, and she suddenly sneezed. Killian didn't say anything, but the way he looked at her was as if he were looking at a fragile porcelain doll.

"Change now," he said in an unquestionable tone.

Tara: "..."

My nose was just itchy! It's not a cold!

Soon, the clerk returned with several dresses. To avoid wasting Killian’s time, Tara picked one and headed into the fitting room.

She peeled off her wet clothes, revealing her pale, delicate skin. She was about to put on the new dress when she realized a problem: her underwear was wet too.

And this store didn't sell underwear.

Tara hesitated, thinking she would just have to deal with the wet undergarments for now. But just as the thought crossed her mind, the clerk’s voice rang out.

"Miss, your boyfriend said you should take off all your wet clothes first. Wait inside in the clean dress for ten minutes; he'll be back soon."

The word "boyfriend" made Tara’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. She cleared her throat and explained, "He's not my boyfriend. Don't say that, he might get angry."

Then she asked, "Wait for him in here?"

"Yes, right here in the fitting room."

Tara didn't know why Killian wanted her to wait ten minutes, but since he was kind enough to buy her clothes, she decided to be obedient. She took off the wet underwear, wrung them out to hang them up, and sat on the stool in the new dress to wait.

But as she waited, she felt something wrong. A restless, uncomfortable sensation began to spread across her skin.

Killian’s "skin hunger" disorder was flaring up again.

About eight minutes later.

"Miss, could you open the door just a crack? Your friend asked me to give you something." The clerk knocked.

Tara, who was huddled on the floor, whispered, "Oh, okay."

She stood up and opened the door a sliver. The clerk handed her an exquisitely packaged pink box and then thoughtfully closed the door.

Enduring the agonizing restlessness on her skin, Tara opened the box. Inside was a set of underwear.

Pure white, high-quality fabric, but the decorations were all bows and even a cartoon rabbit pattern—very childish.

Tara’s face exploded into a deep red that spread to her ears and neck. But then she remembered that Killian was her "sister-in-law," and her embarrassment faded slightly.

As expected, sisters understand sisters best.

Even if this set is really childish.

Enduring the worsening skin hunger, she prepared to change quickly. However, when she actually tried to put it on... the panties were fine, but...

Tara picked up the rabbit-patterned bra and looked down at herself, her expression unreadable.

This small? Are you serious?

Do I look that small?

She doubted herself for a rare moment, then looked in the mirror at her own curves. It turned out it wasn't her problem; her "sister-in-law" just had bad eyesight.

Then again, she could understand. Even if he had the soul of a "sister," he didn't exactly wear these things himself. It was normal to get the size wrong.

After some self-consolation, Tara put her wet bra back on.

A moment later, the door opened. Killian, hearing the movement, looked up lazily. Seeing Tara in the new dress, his deep gaze flickered almost imperceptibly.

"I'm ready." Tara clutched the small box and walked to him, whispering, "Killian, thank you~"

"Wow, you look beautiful!" Before Killian could speak, the clerk offered enthusiastic praise. "I'm not exaggerating, you have the best figure and poise of any customer I've seen in this dress."

Then she looked at Killian and smiled. "You two are a perfect match—truly made for each other!"

Tara’s expression shifted, and she immediately explained, "You misunderstood. He's really not my boyfriend."

She looked up at Killian, then back at the clerk, and said seriously and solemnly: "He's my sister-in-law!"

Clerk: "???"

Killian: "???"

His gaze darkened instantly as he looked at Tara with a dangerous, half-smile. "What did you say? Say that again if you have the guts."