Knight's Quest Of Love (Book 2 of 'Knight' Series)(COMPLETED)

0.4| Dinner Crisis

Elliot ended up not giving her the bill after all. He was hoping to distract her enough to make her forget about it, and he was sucessful for the time being.

"That's how you fold it." He twisted the piece of paper between his fingers for the millionth and it finally resembled a perfect swan. Nigella stared at the little green paper swan in his hand and then stared hatefully at the frog she had made.

Not long ago, Elliot had found a stack of colour paper in one of the drawers in the room. It was probably for any kid who was unfortunate enough to get admitted into the hospital, but he took it anyway. Nigella wasn't less than a kid anyway, that girl could throw one heck of a tantrum.

And it was good enough and effective way to not argue with Nigella. He was trying to teach her how to make figures out of paper and so far he was successful in teaching her to fold paper into a frog. She had learnt to fold a very crumbly, ugly, yellow frog between her fingers.

"It's okay. I didn't learn all of it in a day. Everything takes time." Elliot reassured her, when it in fact did take only a day to learn because he was so into it during kindergarden,"You can have this."

Elliot was such a hypocrite. He should be burnt in hell for lying.

He handed her the swan and dusted his jeans as he stood up from the bed. The clothes he had brought for her were safely dumped on the metal chair, she had used a scrunchie to tie her hair into a bun, for which she thankfully didn't try to pay him back.

"Are you hungry?" Elliot checked the time on his wristwatch. It was past six in the evening. "Someone should have brought your dinner by now. I knew this hospital wasn't reliable."

When he didn't get a reply from her, he looked at her. Nigella wasn't paying attention to him. Her glare was jumping between the frog and the swan.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I don't like frogs, how come I can only make that?" She mumbled, if he had to interpret her feelings towards the paper frog from her glare, Elliot would take no time in saying she held a grudge.

"That's a paper frog. Anyone can make it. What do you want for dinner? I'll ask the nurse to get it for you." He looked at his watch again and then at the door. No one was here with her food.

"I don't want to eat, I'll have some juice."

He snapped his head in her direction, his eyes narrowed like hers, "Bold of you to assume you can do that. I'm going to look for the nurse and get your food. I'll make sure you eat and only then I will leave."

"But I am not hungry. Who are you to force me to eat?" She rolled her eyes and leaned on the pillows, the paper figures still in her hands. Elliot folded his arms, he saw her eyes move towards the bulge on his arms as they flexed. His ego grew ten folds.

"I'm your guardian as of now, and I will remain your guardian until and unless I am sure that you are well and can take care of yourself. Have you seen yourself? You can pass as a dummy skeleton in a biology lab, that's how skinny you are!"

Of course that was a very grand exaggeration of Nigella's appearance. She was nowhere near that skinny, but Elliot's unreasonable amout of worry for her was making him say things with that amout of exaggeration.

"I'm just fine! I have taken care of myself all this time. I can do it again! You can't forcefully be my guardian!"

Elliot was starting to think she had only two emotions towards him, dislike and sometimes tolerance. He should have been deeply, irrevocably offended by the way she rejected his help, had told him to leave and the way she was talking to him in general.

Yet, he wasn't. He was amused. If she miraculously started to talk nicely, he would be scared. That had become a new normal in matter of days.

He sighed, she sighed back. He chuckled and dropped his arms to his sides in resignation.

"Listen here. I don't want to argue with you. Just have something and go to sleep. I'll pick you up in the morning and take you home, okay?" He

She avoided his face but nodded.

He wasn't completely convinced but let the subject drop. The door opened and a nurse came in with the food trolley. He was pleased for the interruption.

"Just in time, you can leave the tray there." Elliot gestured at the table next to her bed. He was going to monitor her eating himself. There was a limit to dieting, she was clearly crossing it to a mile.

"Call me when she is done eating. I will get her medicines." The nurse said and left. Elliot nodded to no one, that's how fast the nurse left the room. He witnessed her running out of the room in such a hurry, he lifted a suspicious eyebrow at Nigella.

"What?" She said innocently, she tried to resemble the poster child of innocence, Elliot would say her success rate was a half. And that made his eyebrow raise higher.

"Did you do something while I was gone this afternoon?" He voiced his question.

She blinked and gasped, clearly offended by his accusations, "How dare you think so? I'm such an angel, what do you take me for?"

"Just tell me what you did, I won't scold you. Promise." He picked up the bag of clothes and set it by the foot of the bed then sat on the metal chair. He picked up the tray of food. It was covered with a foil for some reason. He placed the tray on his lap and carefully peeled away the foil. Let's just say, Elliot wasn't impressed with what he saw.

"That's what I'm supposed to eat?" Nigella made a face at the food, or whatever that was in the tray, "Are they trying to cut their bill? Is this even a real hospital? Are you conning me Mr suits?"

"Mr Suits?" Elliot echoed. He had been called many things before, many good thing and many bad things but never 'Mr Suits'. That was the most original thing he had heard from her. Rest everything seemed fake about her, except for her name. It suited her face, so Nigella had to be her real name.

"Well, I don't know what your last name is. I'm very good at forgetting names. Don't expect me to learn and remember in our first meeting." Nigella shrugged. She took one more look at the tray and scrunched her nose cutely.

Elliot was truly going insane. She was not cute, she was a devil spawn. She didn't even remember his name!

"I did tell you my name. It's Elliot. E-l-l-i-o-t. Elliot."

"I can't call you that. You did not tell me your last name."

"Call me Elliot. Why do you want to know my last name?" Usually Elliot always included his proud name Knight with his first name, it set an aura around him wherever he went. Today he felt like keeping that aura of his family name outside the room and just be Elliot. For once, not Elliot Knight.

Which was terrifying enough for him to consider finding himself a doctor.

"I like to address people with their last names, unless I decide they are good enough to be my friend." She shrugged with one shoulder, then laced her thin fingers around one knee. So Elliot had not yet reached there, that was kind of deflating.

Shaking his head, Elliot forwarded the tray towards her. She shrunk away. He sighed, he did not blame her. The food looked completely unappetising to him too. The tray had one large bowl of some gooey white thing, there were some veggie bits in them so he guessed it was porridge.

Around the bowl there were two more plates, one filled with more vegetables and the other had boiled eggs. In a small side bowl in a lonely corner of the tray was a maroon liquid. Elliot couldn't bring himself to trust the food he wasn't able to put a name to. He gave up.

"Okay fine. You are so not eating this. I'll get you something else." He placed the tray back on the table as quickly as his body allowed him to move and dumped the foil over it so he didn't have to see the contents of it.

He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialled his favourite restaurant.

Nigella asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm ordering food."

"Oh really?" Her eyes lit up like christmas lights. Somewhere inside his chest, the normal thumping of his heart became louder. His hand froze on his ear, phone ringing. He cleared his throat. He hummed a reply, not trusting his voice.

"Can I get some Pierogi?"

The person on the other side answered the call, "Elliot?"

Elliot coughed at the sudden sound in his ear. He was busy staring into Nigella's eyes and her huge grin. Where did that grin come from?

"Pedro, yes. It's me."

"I know it's you. What do you want?" Said Pedro's annoyed voice. Elliot looked away from Nigella and focused on his friend. It was always a good thing to have a friend who doubles as a chef. It was still dinner time so he guessed Pedro's restaurant must still be opened.

"Food of course."

"No shito."

"Deliver me something for sick people. Make sure it's pleasing on the eyes too."

Pedro didn't say anything for a second, then a sizzling sound was heard in the background.

"Who is sick?"

"Don't ask. Just get me some food. I'll send you the address." He made the mistake of looking at Nigella. Her big eyes were gazing up him with all the hope in this world. Her bottom lip was out. It looked very inviting. Elliot gulped.

"And some Pieroges too." He quickly added and disconnected the call.

Nigella's giggles hit him before her legs did.

Elliot stumbled back as her leg came in harsh contact with his thigh bone. She didn't seem to understand she had just hit him in her excited leg and arm throwing. And he didn't tell her. He just stood at a safe distance and watched her get excited over a few Pieroges.

His lips curled into a smile, and instantly turned down when he came to realise it.

"You better eat up now." He told her, cutting off her fit. Now he knew she was indeed healthy enough to leave tomorrow morning. No sick person could throw their limbs like she did.

"Thank you."

They didn't talk much while waiting for the delivery. Elliot knew the package would be with them in exactly twenty minutes, but for amusement reasons, he didn't tell that to Nigella. It was funny to see her look at the door every five minutes to see if their delivery guy had arrived with some healthy food and Pieroges.

"They will be here in a minute, why don't you wash your hands by then?" He instructed her like a parent did to their child. She glared at him with daggers in her eyes, Elliot stood up at the sound of knocks on the door.

"It's here!" Nigella jumped out of the bed like flash.

Elliot was faster than Nigella. He blocked the door with his body just a second before she could open it. Which resulted in her crashing right into him. His chest once again thumped violently against his ribcage, Nigella's head was right against it, he wondered if she felt the movement.

"That's a hard body you have got there. I could have died just by crashing into you, you don't even need a car for that!" She rubbed her forehead and complaint agressively.

Guilt spread through him like spilt mango juice. He pressed his lips together and turned to open the door. As expected, Pedro's delivery man was just in time with the parcel. Elliot paid him generously with his card and shut the door behind him.

"Give me that!"

The parcel was snatched from his hands before he had the chance to see what was inside. Though he trusted Pedro to send him just what he wanted, he also understood his habitual sense of humor.

He still hadn't forgotten how that very friend had sent him cod fish instead of rare steak. Elliot had been pissed, then forgot about it the next morning. That only triggered more incidents like that. Elliot was never able to stop them.

"Oh my god!" Nigella's squeak brought him back to reality. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared into the bag, her mouth ajar. Elliot was going to skewer Pedro next time they meet.

He rushed towards her and took the bag from her. "What is it?"

He peered into the bag. Three seprate boxes of food were placed next to each other in a very Pedro style systematic way. Each one labelled with the name the dish it contained.

"You didn't order the chowder, did you?"

Elliot was no nutrition expert, but he knew chowder wasn't the best for a sick person. He eyed Nigella, she didn't look sick in any sense, she just lacked nutrition a lot of nutrition.

"Nor the falafel, if you are wondering." He deadpanned. Right next to the falafel was the right order of Pieroges. He picked out the plastic bowl of corn chowder, which was the biggest he had ever witnessed and following it were the falafel. He left the Pieroges inside the bag.

Elliot sighed, "You can have the chowder, not the falafel of course. And you will only get the Pieroges if you finish the chowder." He saw her horrified face, "Or at least half of it."

"I can't! I'm not used to eating so much!" She protested. The same thing again and again. She had difficulty eating during lunch time as well. Elliot didn't think much of it during the time because even he didn't usually eat lunch and guessed it was normal to feel less hungry in afternoons. But this wasn't normal.

"A normal human can. Or are you a chipmunk?" Elliot snorted and placed the plastic bowl before her. He did her another favour and tore open the packet of eating utensils for her.

"Eat up." He said encouragingly.

She took the spoon with uncertainty and spooned up some of the chowder. Elliot followed her every move with keen eyes. He didn't understand the amount of hesitation she had for eating.

The last time she had eaten was during lunch time, it was natural to feel extremely hungry by now. Elliot would expect anyone to jump at the sight of that chowder, it looked and smelled delicious.

She gulped down the spoonful, guilt danced in her eyes. Elliot's breathing slowed, his eyes fell on her thin shoulders and down to her skinny hands. He was extremely worried for her. It was clear that she had an eating disorder. Elliot had to do something.