Chapter 409 Magnus, I'm Itchy
Magnus wrapped an arm around Juniper's waist, pulling her coat closed with the other. "It's freezing out here. Wait for me in the car," he said.
Every time she had her period, the pain was unbearable. Ibuprofen barely helped, and if she didn't avoid cold foods or caught a chill that month, it was even worse.
Juniper was clearly worried about the drunken Ophelia.
Magnus glanced at Ophelia on the ground and said, "I'll keep an eye on her for you."
Just then, a black Cullinan pulled up.
Robert stepped out of the car.
As Juniper was about to say something, Magnus pulled her close and told Robert, "Take care of your wife. We're out of here."
He didn't want to stick around and watch Ophelia's drunken antics.
Robert nodded.
Magnus wrapped Juniper up and started towards the car, then Juniper paused and turned back. "Mr. Brown, Ophelia and I ran into your ex at the mall today. She still seems to have feelings for you. If you still care about Riley, don't drag Ophelia along. Get a divorce sooner rather than later; it's better for everyone."
Juniper said this not to provoke him but as a kind reminder. She wouldn't say more than that.
She just didn't want to see Ophelia continue to be drained by this marriage.
If Robert and Ophelia were in love, at least the mutual exhaustion would be consensual.
But as it was now, what was the point?
Robert's face darkened, and he didn't respond.
Magnus and Juniper left.
He stood there, coldly looking at the seated Ophelia, and said emotionlessly, "Get up."
Ophelia was so drunk she couldn't tell who was in front of her.
She sat there hugging herself, ignoring Robert's words, and mumbled, "I lost my bag. I need to find my bag. Juniper, come help me find my bag!"
Robert frowned slightly, "You're so drunk. Are you looking for the bag, or is the bag looking for you?"
"I don't care! I need to find my bag! It's super expensive. What if it's lost?"
The night in the city was bone-chillingly cold.
This bar street was full of neon lights and a variety of people coming and going.
Ophelia and Robert were quite eye-catching.
Especially Robert, with his roguishly handsome face, a mix of good and evil, exuding an unrestrained and rebellious aura that drew many glances.
Robert had been in the spotlight since he was young, so he didn't feel uncomfortable with the attention.
But her staying there wasn't a solution.
He finally condescended to squat down, looking her in the eye, and said nonchalantly, "If it's lost, I'll buy you another one later." Seeing her not respond, Robert thought she had calmed down.
He reached out to her, "Let's go home, okay?"
Now, he really looked like a bad guy trying to coax a drunk girl. If Ophelia didn't leave, the police might get involved, causing more trouble.
Ophelia completely ignored him, "You say buy, just buy. It's very expensive!"
Robert looked at her, his voice calm, "I have money. I'll buy it for you."
Ophelia shook her head, "If you buy it, it's not mine. I don't want it. I only want my bag."
Robert sighed lightly, "If I buy it for you, how is it not yours? And you only lost one bag. You have so many bags at home."
Ophelia seriously retorted, "No."
"Why not?"
"That bag belongs to a jerk. It has nothing to do with me. Now that it's lost, I might have to pay for it. Do you understand? I need to find the bag."
Robert frowned, "Who are you calling a jerk?"
"What's his name again? I think his last name is Brown. Get out of my way. Don't stop me from finding my bag."
She pushed herself up from the ground, wobbling as she tried to find her bag.
Robert watched her coldly, "Where are you going?"
Ophelia looked around, muttering, "Weird, I lost it right here. Where did it go? Did you steal it?"
She grabbed his clothes, glared at him, and then leaned on him, looking behind him, "Where did you hide it? Give it back to me!"
Robert grabbed her wrist, "I'll take you to buy one now to replace it."
Ophelia, eyes glazed, half-believed him, "Really? Don't lie to me, or I'll call the police!"
She was so drunk, leaning limply against him.
Robert looked down at her, finally laughing in exasperation. He wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her stand, and negotiated, "I won't lie to you, but if we buy the bag, you have to go home obediently."
Ophelia leaned against his chest, nodding sullenly.
The Golden Shopping Center was across the street and still open.
Ophelia directed him, "Go buy it now. Don't try to fool me!"
Robert carried the drunken Ophelia on his back, helpless but amused, "Alright, you're really troublesome."
Ophelia clung to his neck, lying on his shoulder, "I want that one."
Robert turned his head slightly and asked, "Which one?"
"The light yellow Kelly! It's so pretty! But I don't have a card to swipe! You owe me one! If you give it to me, it's mine, right?"
Robert responded, "Yes, it's yours."
Ophelia looked at his profile with bleary eyes, mumbling, "But it's gone. Riley bought it. Never mind, I'll take another one, but it has to be more expensive!"Robert adjusted her on his back.
He paused slightly at the mention of Riley's name, "Riley took the bag from you?"
Ophelia shook her head, her voice slurred, "There was only one left. I returned my card to Robert long ago. I had no money to buy it, so of course, I let her have it!"
Robert scoffed.
These luxury stores loved playing the scarcity game, always claiming no stock when they had plenty.
He asked the person on his back, "Do you want it?"
Ophelia hummed a few times, "It's gone. You can't buy it!"
Half an hour later, Ophelia was clutching the light yellow crocodile skin Kelly bag as Robert tossed her into the passenger seat.
Robert walked around the front of the car, got in, and glanced at her. He finally leaned over to buckle her seatbelt.
Ophelia leaned in, full of curiosity, "How come when I buy it, it's not available, but when you buy it, it is? Can you do magic?"
Seeing her so drunk, cherishing the bag so much.
Robert smirked, "Do you really like bags that much?"
Ophelia wrinkled her nose, closed her eyes, and mumbled, "Yes, I like bags. Do you expect me to like jerks instead?"
These bags constantly reminded her of how bad Robert was.
Robert's eyes glinted with a mischievous smile, not angry at all, "What's wrong with him? Aren't all the bags you like bought by a jerk?"
Ophelia seemed to remember something, and suddenly the Kelly bag in her hand lost its charm. She let go, and the bag fell into the car, "Bags bought by a jerk don't belong to me. This isn't my bag. I want my bag."
Robert was about to start the car, not wanting to deal with her.
But Ophelia in the passenger seat curled up into a ball, seemingly reminded of something sad, and started to sob quietly.
He was quite annoyed by the task of comforting people. From childhood to adulthood, people around him always flattered him; he never had to comfort anyone.
It was always others who catered to him, seeking his favor.
But Ophelia's crying grew louder, and her eyes became redder.
Robert frowned impatiently, "Why are you crying again? Didn't we buy the bag?"
Ophelia kicked off her high heels, curled her long legs on the seat, buried her face in her knees, and her voice trembled with sobs:
"These bags never belonged to me. From the beginning, they weren't mine. I shouldn't like them."
Once you had something, it was hard to let go.
Her tears rolled down in sadness.
Robert felt a growing, undeniable frustration in his chest. He finally unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned over, picked up the bag that had fallen under the seat, and stuffed it into her arms.
Robert's eyes fixed on her, soothingly, "The bag is yours. I said it."
Ophelia cried, feeling utterly wronged, "But Riley also has this bag."
Robert laughed in exasperation, "She bought it with her own card. What do you want me to do, tell her to throw it away?"
Ophelia disdainfully handed the bag back to him, "Then I don't want it. It's dirty."
Robert was momentarily stunned, staring at her with a probing look, raising an eyebrow with a smile, "Are you talking about the bag or the person?"
"The bag."
Robert suddenly leaned in, his large hand cupping the back of her head, his breath close.
He spoke clearly and steadily, "I can't control what bags Riley has, but I can guarantee that I am yours now. Is that enough?"
Magnus carried Juniper back to Royal View; it was almost midnight.
When he kissed her, he tasted the faint scent of alcohol in her mouth, "You drank too?"
Juniper was allergic to alcohol and naturally had a very low tolerance.
Her head was a bit dizzy, leaning against his chest, she answered honestly, "Just a little."
Magnus took off her coat and boots, carrying her upstairs.
Juniper pulled his hand over, placing it on her temple.
Magnus understood, using his long fingers to massage her, "You're allergic to alcohol, yet you still drank? Ophelia had a bad influence on you."
Juniper shook her head with a smile, "I just craved it myself."
Magnus was about to turn on the light to check if she had any allergic rashes, but Juniper held his wrist, gently standing on tiptoe to kiss him, "It itches a bit."
He started to undress her, thinking she meant her skin was itching from an allergic reaction. His large hand held her wrists to stop her from moving, "Let me see."
Because of the alcohol, her cheeks were a bit hot. The moment her warm face touched his cool cheek, the temperature difference triggered an unexpected reaction in Magnus.
Magnus held her waist with one hand, supporting her, and with the other, he took off her dress. His usually cold voice was now a bit hoarse, "Juniper?"
"Yes?"
Her hot breath, with a faint scent of alcohol, clung to his neck, both fragrant and soft.
Magnus leaned down, pressing her into his arms and kissing her.
Their kiss grew passionate, and the air seemed to warm up.
Juniper wrapped her arms around his neck, boldly whispering in his ear, "Magnus, I'm itchy."
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