Samuel Johnson slightly furrowed his brow, stirred the spoon around and thought to himself that it was just a mood-enhancing drug; taking a little more shouldn't be too big of a problem, right?
He let out a slight sigh of relief, then carried the bowl to Amanda Smith's door and knocked, not waiting for the person inside to respond before he entered.
Over the past few months, Amanda had grown accustomed to Samuel delivering medicine to her door at night. Seeing Samuel, she merely lifted her eyelids, as she had been reading books in the evenings lately—since Samuel forbade her from using the internet, she could only read to distract herself from her worries.
Samuel walked to her desk, extended the bowl in front of her, and casually sat opposite her.
Smelling the bitter medicinal scent, Amanda's delicate eyebrows knit together. She pushed the bowl to one side and turned her head back to her book.