Chapter 166 Fantasy couple

Chapter 166: Chapter 166 Fantasy couple

"Noah, you won’t believe who I ran into!"

Evelyn practically burst into the hospital room, excitement written all over her face.

"It’s your classmates! They’re all here, and they want to see you. And guess what? Your old crush is here, too! Gosh, you have to see them!"

She paused, expecting her brother to respond.

Nothing.

Evelyn glanced around the room.

The bed was empty.

Her smile slowly disappeared.

"Noah?"

She walked farther into the room, checking behind the curtains and even looking toward the bathroom.

"Noah, what’s going on? Where are you?"

There was no sign of her brother anywhere. The only thing that caught her attention was the trail of blood leading away from the bed.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake!"

Evelyn rushed toward the bed, staring at the bloodstains with growing horror.

"That idiot!"

She pressed a hand against her forehead, trying not to lose her mind.

"That fucking idiot is going to be the death of me! I specifically told him to stay in one place while I went to get him food. Was that really too much to ask?"

She turned toward the door, ready to hunt down every single person in the hospital until someone told her where her brother had gone.

Unfortunately, she barely made it into the corridor before she bumped into someone.

A familiar doctor stood in front of her.

Dr. Whitmore.

He smiled when he saw her, looking almost as though he had been waiting for this exact moment.

And, in a way, he had been.

The person he was looking for had finally appeared.

"Good afternoon," he greeted her pleasantly.

Evelyn stared at him.

"Doctor, have you seen my brother?"

"Actually, your brother is in my office right now, receiving his medication."

Evelyn’s eyebrows shot up.

"He’s what?"

"Resting in my office."

"How the hell did he get to your office, and what was he doing there in the first place?"

She looked genuinely stunned.

Out of all the possible explanations for her brother’s disappearance, this was the last one she had expected.

Noah had barely been conscious earlier. He was injured, weak, and bleeding. Yet somehow, he had managed to escape his hospital room and find his way into a doctor’s office.

How?

More importantly, why?

Dr. Whitmore scratched his cheek.

"Well, I can’t exactly explain everything that happened, but he’s fine. Just give him some time to rest. I’m watching over him, and I promise he won’t slip away again."

Evelyn stared at him for a moment before letting out a disbelieving laugh.

"Doctor, you do realize we’re talking about Noah Evernight, right?"

"Yes?"

"That boy could escape a locked room if he decided he wanted to. If he suddenly gets the idea to leave your office, you might turn around and find an empty chair!"

Dr. Whitmore’s lips twitched.

For some reason, the thought didn’t seem to bother him nearly as much as it should have.

Instead, he appeared to find it rather amusing.

And then, to Evelyn’s utter confusion, a faint blush crept across his cheeks.

She froze.

Slowly, her eyes narrowed.

"Wait a minute."

Dr. Whitmore cleared his throat.

"What?"

"Why are you blushing?"

"I’m not."

"Oh, really?"

Evelyn leaned closer, examining his face with the intensity of someone investigating a crime scene.

"Doctor, I’m talking about my brother here, and you’re standing in front of me blushing like a teenager. Is this what I think it is?"

"No, no. You’ve misunderstood."

"Have I?"

"Absolutely."

"Then why are you looking like someone just told you you’re getting married tomorrow?"

Dr. Whitmore’s ears turned slightly red.

Evelyn’s mouth fell open.

"Oh, my God."

"Miss Evernight, I think you should—"

"YOU LIKE MY BROTHER!"

"Evelyn!"

The doctor immediately stepped forward, gently steering her away from the office corridor.

"I think you should give us some space to do our work. And the food you’re carrying? I’ll make sure he eats it."

Evelyn blinked as he took the food package from her hands.

"Wait, I haven’t finished—"

"Thank you for understanding!"

Before she could say another word, Dr. Whitmore hurried away with the food.

Evelyn stood there, staring after him with her mouth hanging open.

For several seconds, she couldn’t even move.

Then she slowly raised a hand to her forehead.

"What in the entire universe did I just witness?"

She looked toward the office where her brother was apparently recovering under the care of a suspiciously flustered doctor.

"Noah! My brother! What the hell is wrong with you?"

She threw her hands into the air.

"You’re supposed to be sick! You’re supposed to be recovering! And somehow, you’ve already moved on to the doctor?"

Evelyn groaned loudly.

"And here I was, feeling sorry for you because you were depressed and miserable. I was practically preparing to cry with you! Meanwhile, I’m the one who needs sympathy the most!"

She turned around and began walking down the corridor, muttering to herself.

"Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. That boy hasn’t even left the hospital, and he’s already causing romantic complications."

Still, as her anger gradually faded, another thought crossed her mind.

Perhaps she could do something to cheer Noah up.

He had been miserable ever since waking up. Even when she brought him expensive gifts, he barely showed any interest. Whatever had happened to him after the accident had changed him in ways she couldn’t understand.

Maybe seeing familiar faces would help.

And if his classmates were already here, why not take things a step further?

Evelyn stopped walking.

Her eyes suddenly lit up.

"What if I organize a surprise party for him?"

She imagined Noah returning home after his hospital stay, only to find his friends waiting for him. There would be food, decorations, music, and everyone he used to spend time with.

Perhaps it would remind him of the things he once enjoyed.

And who knew? Maybe seeing his old crush again would bring back some of his usual enthusiasm.

Evelyn grinned.

"Yes! That’s perfect!"

She clapped her hands together.

"Noah would love that!"

The fact that Noah had shown absolutely no interest in the gifts she had brought him didn’t even cross her mind.

She was already planning decorations, guest lists, and an entire menu.

With renewed enthusiasm, Evelyn hurried toward the hospital exit to put her plan into action.

Her brother might be acting strangely, but she was determined to make him happy again.

Even if she had to organize the most extravagant get-well party the Evernight family had ever seen.

---

Meanwhile, Noah was fast asleep in Dr. Whitmore’s office.

After all the shouting, arguing, and emotional revelations, his exhausted body had finally surrendered to sleep.

His injured arm had been cleaned and carefully bandaged, and the doctor had made sure the bleeding was under control. Noah was resting in the cushioned chair, his head tilted slightly to one side.

For a while, everything was quiet.

Then he began hearing whispers.

At first, they were faint, almost indistinguishable from the distant sounds of the hospital.

But gradually, they grew louder.

You have to go back, Noah.

His eyebrows furrowed.

Go back, Noah!

The voice echoed inside his head, growing heavier with every repetition.

The world needs you. The empire needs you!

Noah shifted uncomfortably in his sleep.

You have to give them a happy ending. Isn’t that what you wanted when you entered the novel?

The words became increasingly urgent, almost desperate.

Noah’s breathing quickened.

Something about the voice felt familiar, yet he couldn’t identify it. It sounded as though someone were calling to him from a great distance, desperately trying to pull him toward something he couldn’t see.

Go back!

The voice grew darker.

More demanding.

Then—

Noah gasped and jolted awake.

"FUCK!"

He nearly launched himself out of the chair.

"YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!"

He slapped a hand over his face, trying to calm his racing heart.

Dr. Whitmore, who was sitting beside him and carefully checking the bandages on his arm, burst out laughing.

"Well, good morning to you, too."

Noah glared at him through his fingers.

"Don’t you ’good morning’ me! What the hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"Nothing. Just forget it."

Noah dropped his hand and looked around the office.

For a moment, the whispers still lingered at the back of his mind.

The world needs you.

He swallowed.

Had he imagined them?

Or was something genuinely calling him back?

Before he could think too deeply about it, Dr. Whitmore finished securing the bandage around his arm.

"There. Much better."

He examined his work with satisfaction.

"The dressing should stay in place now, so you won’t have to worry about reopening the wound every five minutes. You’ll also need some blood supplements and other medication to help your body recover from the blood loss."

Noah glanced down at his arm.

The bandages were neat, and the bleeding had finally stopped.

"Thanks," he said, offering the doctor a small smile. "Seriously. Thanks for helping me, even after I spent half our conversation attacking you."

Dr. Whitmore nodded.

"You’re welcome."

"However..."

The doctor’s smile faded slightly.

Noah leaned back in his chair.

"Everything I said earlier still stands. I appreciate you helping me, but I still think you’re an asshole for making my life a living hell."

Dr. Whitmore sighed.

"And for creating one of the most pathetic villains in the history of fiction!"

Noah pointed at him accusingly.

"Seriously, what kind of villain was I supposed to be? I was meant to be this terrifying character, but I couldn’t even achieve anything properly!"

Now that he thought about it, Ashton had barely been allowed to enjoy his villainous reputation before everything went wrong.

He had been dragged through one disaster after another, and every time he tried to gain control of his life, something even more ridiculous happened.

And now he was back in his original world, arguing with the man responsible for writing the whole mess.

What a life.

Dr. Whitmore gave him an awkward, sheepish smile.

Noah stared at him.

Something was different about this man.

Earlier, he had seemed distant and serious, almost cold whenever the conversation turned toward the supernatural world. Yet now, he kept smiling at Noah as though they had known each other for years.

It was strange.

Unsettling, even.

"Why are you looking at me like I’m some kind of strange creature?" Dr. Whitmore asked.

Noah shrugged.

"Shouldn’t I?"

He looked the doctor up and down.

"Honestly, if I hadn’t already established that you’re a doctor and a novelist, I would have assumed you were an alien."

Dr. Whitmore raised an eyebrow.

"An alien?"

"Yes! How else do you explain looking almost exactly like a fictional character? That’s not normal!"

The doctor chuckled.

"Perhaps you should consider that the character was modeled after me in the first place."

Noah stared at him.

Then he slowly nodded.

"Wow."

"What?"

"That’s an absolutely narcissistic explanation."

"It’s a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"Oh, of course it is."

Dr. Whitmore folded his arms.

"Don’t look at me with those judgmental eyes. I happen to like myself. So, naturally, I decided to create a character who looks like me."

Noah stared at him for another moment before sighing.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t even argue with that logic.

The resemblance was undeniable.

Still, despite their similar appearances, the two men were quite different.

Both had a certain aloofness about them, but the Damian from the novel had carried a deep insecurity because of his curse. His arrogance often concealed his fear of being rejected, and beneath his cold exterior was someone who struggled to believe he deserved to be loved.

This Damian, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have a single shred of that insecurity.

He was confident, shamelessly pleased with himself, and apparently comfortable enough to flirt without even realizing how suspicious he looked.

What a pity.

Noah might never get the chance to understand the differences between the two men properly.

Unless...

His eyes suddenly widened.

Wait a minute.

The novel!

He needed to go through it again.

When everything had happened, he had been reading the story on his phone. He remembered the moment he had been engrossed in the novel, completely unaware that his life was about to take a ridiculous turn.

If there were clues hidden in the original story, he needed to find them.

Perhaps he could discover how he had entered the novel in the first place.

And if he could figure out how it happened, he might find a way to return.

Noah pushed himself upright.

"Well, you might have written a shitty novel, but now you have to help clean up the mess you’ve created."

Dr. Whitmore blinked.

"What?"

Noah ignored him and stood.

"Because I’m going back."

The doctor immediately reached for the food package Evelyn had left behind.

"Before you go anywhere, shouldn’t you eat something? Your sister brought you a meal, and it’s important that you eat after all the treatment you’ve received."

He held the package out to Noah.

Noah looked at it as though the doctor had offered him a box of explosives.

"Absolutely not."

"You need food."

"I need answers."

"You need both."

"Doctor, I’m going to be honest with you. At this point, if I smell anything edible, I might throw up."

Dr. Whitmore looked unimpressed.

"Noah—"

"You’re a sweetheart for taking care of me, really. But I think our little drama has gone on long enough."

Noah waved dismissively.

"If you can’t help me get the hell back into the novel, why are you disturbing my peace, young man?"

Dr. Whitmore’s mouth fell open.

For the first time since they had met, he seemed genuinely speechless.

Noah grinned.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

He turned toward the doctor with an expression of sudden curiosity.

"By the way, do people in this world have secondary genders?"

Dr. Whitmore frowned.

"Secondary genders?"

"Yes. Alphas, Omegas, Enigmas, all that stuff. Do they exist here?"

The doctor stared at him before shaking his head.

"No. Not in the way you’re describing."

Noah went completely still.

Then, slowly, a radiant smile spread across his face.

"OH, THANK GOD!"

Dr. Whitmore recoiled slightly.

Noah practically threw his head back in relief.

"Finally! Some good news!"

He pressed a hand against his chest.

"No annoying pheromones. No ridiculous instincts. No unexpected reactions because an Alpha happens to walk past me. And, most importantly, NO HEAT!"

His entire face lit up.

He had endured enough supernatural nonsense to last several lifetimes.

The pheromones had been annoying enough, but the heat cycles and the way his Omega traits sometimes interfered with his ability to think straight?

Absolutely not.

He wasn’t going to miss any of that.

For once, being back in his original world had given him something to celebrate.

"Wonderful!" he declared. "I have a mountain of work to do, and now I can finally get started!"

He turned toward the door.

"See you never!"

Noah took one step.

Then another.

And suddenly, the entire room began spinning.

His smile vanished.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

He reached for the desk, but his fingers barely brushed its edge before his knees buckled.

Dr. Whitmore caught him before he could hit the floor.

"Seriously, Noah?"

He wrapped an arm around Noah’s waist, holding him securely against his chest.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Noah groaned.

"Put me down."

"Absolutely not."

"I can walk!"

"You can barely stand."

"I hate you."

"That’s unfortunate."

Dr. Whitmore adjusted his grip, then lifted Noah into his arms as though he weighed practically nothing.

Noah’s eyes widened.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Taking you home."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I’m carrying you straight to your apartment, and you’re going to eat something on the way."

Noah struggled weakly.

"Put me down, you lunatic! I swear, if you don’t—"

He stopped.

Their eyes met.

For one brief, impossible moment, Dr. Whitmore’s dazzling gray eyes seemed to change.

The familiar color shifted, revealing a flash of brilliant blue.

Damian’s eyes.

The eyes Noah remembered from the other world.

The eyes that had watched over him, challenged him, and made his heart race when he least expected it.

Noah forgot how to breathe.

His anger dissolved into confusion, and then into something far more dangerous.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

He stared at the doctor, completely spellbound.

Dr. Whitmore’s expression softened.

"I’m going to help you, Noah."

His voice was quieter now, carrying a warmth Noah hadn’t heard from him before.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted into a familiar, teasing smile.

"Or should I call you little kitten?"

Noah’s entire face turned bright pink.

"W-WHAT?"

He immediately buried his face against the doctor’s chest.

There was no way.

Absolutely no way!

Why did that nickname sound so familiar coming from him?

Why did his heart react as though Damian himself had whispered it into his ear?

Dr. Whitmore chuckled, seemingly delighted by Noah’s reaction.

"That’s what I thought."

He carried Noah toward the exit, ignoring his weak protests.

Outside, a gentle breeze caught Noah’s hair, sending the strands fluttering around his face.

For a moment, with the sunlight falling across them and the doctor holding him so effortlessly, they looked like a couple straight out of one of those glamorous fantasy romances Noah used to read.

Only this time, Noah wasn’t reading the story.

He was living it.