Chapter 139 Being with Morwenna, even Stuart’s icy heart felt the warmth of being cherished. Morwenna was shy and often nervous
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, but no matter how timid, she always expressed her thoughts openly and honestly. Like now, she wanted to hold Stuart’s hand. Of course, if Stuart didn’t agree, that would be the end of it. Stuart remained silent. Morwenna asked in a whisper, “May I?” Still, Stuart didn’t respond. Morwenna figured Stuart’s silence was his way of giving consent. When their hands brushed lightly again, Morwenna grabbed Stuart’s hand. She didn’t look at him, her eyes fixed ahead, her heart pounding wildly though she tried to appear calm. She had succeeded. They were holding hands! Morwenna was thrilled. The next moment, Stuart withdrew his hand. Morwenna paused, slightly disappointed, thinking Stuart might not want to hold hands after all. But she didn’t let it get her down. It’s cool, she told herself, just take it slow. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled by Stuart’s voice, cool as the frost of a pine in winter, “Your palms are sweating.” Her cheeks heated up and she quickly swung her hands ind her to dry them off. Morwenna chided herself internally. What’s gotten into you, Morwenna? You used to be so tough, and now you’re nervous over holding hands? Then, in a swift move, Stuart took her freshly wiped hand. Morwenna’s fingers twitched slightly. Holding her hand, Stuart even squeezed her palm gently, finding it soft and small. He did hate it after all. He pondered to himself, wondering if simply liking someone’s spirit means not anything about them. If so, he wouldn’t mind engaging in this game of affection with Morwenna. After all, he had no other women in his life; keeping Morwenna around wouldn’t hurt. Stuart was thinking these cold thoughts, while Morwenna, blissfully unaware, just smiled. She thought this was a sign of progress in their relationship… Stuart took Morwenna to a place that looked like a tech lab. Morwenna curiously surveyed the area, cluttered with machine parts and barely any space to step. Stuart, familiar with the chaos, walked straight in and addressed a young man engrossed in tinkering with parts, “Where’s the phone I asked for?” The young man, startled by the presence of someone else, looked up and scratched his receding hairline, “Mr. Hetfield, I didn’t expect you in person. The phone is ready; I meant to deliver it today but lost track of time.” Stuart was unfazed; it was common for these tech folks to lose track of time, even forgetting meals and sleep. The young man quickly handed over the phone, nervously scratching his head again. Morwenna noticed a few hairs falling and felt an urge to warn him about his thinning hair. Stuart handed over Morwenna’s old phone to the young man, “Swap the SIM card into this one.” Realizing what was happening, Morwenna quickly interjected, “Stuart, my phone’s still in good condition. It works fine.” The young man, pushing up his glasses/looked curiously at Morwenna. This phone was a special order from Mr. Hetfield for this girl.