<h4>Chapter 642: Early Presents</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    I nodded slowly as I finished reading thest page of the project draft Charles had prepared.


    The paper rustled softly as I lowered it onto the table between us. And for a moment, I didn’t say anything. Not because there was something wrong with it. But because I was genuinely impressed.


    When I finally looked up, Charles was staring at me with wide, anxious eyes.


    He was sitting across from me in one of the quiet corners of study hall, with his back straight and hands sped tightly together on hisp. His entire posture screamed nervous anticipation.


    He had clearly been watching my face the entire time I was reading, waiting while trying to guess my reaction.


    I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.


    "Well," I said slowly, and noticed the way his shoulders stiffened. "This is... really good."


    His eyes widened. "Really?" he asked immediately.


    I nodded again, sliding the papers back toward him. "You have improved a lot."


    And that wasn’t an exaggeration.


    Over the past month or so, I had spent several evenings helping him with his studies, and being the fast learner he was - Charles caught onto things quickly. He just needed the right direction.


    His improvement had been obvious, clear, and honestly, a little impressive.


    "You organized your arguments well," I continued. "Your references are stronger this time too. And the analysis section-"


    I tapped the paper lightly.


    "-this part shows real progress."


    He stared at me like I had just handed him the moon.


    Then suddenly his entire face lit up, and a bright, unguarded smile spread across his lips. It was the kind of smile that came from pure relief... like he had been holding his breath the entire time.


    "Thank you," he said quickly.


    I shook my head with a softugh. "You did the work. I just guided you."


    Still smiling, I leaned down and reached beside my chair. My fingers found the paper gift bag resting on the floor. I picked it up and ced it on the table in front of him.


    Charles blinked.


    "What’s that?"


    "It’s for you," I replied.


    His eyebrows furrowed slightly.


    "For me?"


    I nodded.


    "An early Christmas present."


    For a second, he simply stared at the bag. Then his expression changed. His eyes softened. And almost immediately... they started to moisten.


    Oh no.


    I knew that look.


    And I also knew exactly what he was about to do.


    "Don’t even think about refusing it," I said quickly.


    His mouth closed.


    "But-"


    "Nope." I pointed a finger at him. "You call me sister, remember?"


    He hesitated before nodding. "Yes..."


    "Well," I continued firmly, "you don’t refuse a Christmas present from your sister."


    That shut him up instantly.


    He stared at the bag again. Then slowly, carefully, he reached forward and picked it up.


    "...Thank you," he said softly. Then he added a little awkwardly, "I... haven’t gone out to buy gifts yet."


    His gaze dropped to the table.


    "I’ll get you er."


    There was clear embarrassment in his voice. And guilt. Like he felt bad for not having something to give me back.


    I sighed dramatically. Then I reached forward and knocked my knuckles lightly against his forehead.


    "Hey!"


    He jerked back with a yelp.


    "That hurt!"


    "Good," I said calmly.


    He rubbed his forehead with a pout.


    "What was that for?!"


    "For worrying about something unnecessary."


    I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "You don’t need to stress about getting me a gift."


    "But-"


    "I’ll be perfectly happy with cookies."


    He blinked.


    "Cookies?"


    "Yes," I nodded seriously. "Especially if they are homemade."


    A small chuckle escaped him.


    "Really?"


    "Really." I shrugged lightly. "It’s the intention that matters more than the present."


    For a moment he just looked at me. Then a small, genuine smile slowly appeared on his face.


    "Okay," he said softly.


    "Good."


    I pointed toward the bag.


    "Now open it."


    He immediately obeyed.


    He reached inside the paper bag and carefully pulled out the gift box. He ced it on the table and slowly lifted the lid.


    For a moment, he simply stared inside.


    Then his eyes widened.


    "The book..." he whispered as he gently picked it up.


    It was a thick hardcover titled Moon Cycles and Star Formation.


    "I noticed you were interested in this topic," I said casually.


    He nodded quickly.


    "Yes-I mean-though I don’t like the sses, the subject in itself is really interesting-"


    "I know."


    His fingers brushed over the cover like it was something fragile and precious. Then he noticed the second item in the box, and pulled it out.


    It was a dark blue woolen scarf.


    "It’s finally snowing now," I said, "So you’ll probably need that."


    Charles looked at the scarf for a moment before carefully cing it beside the book.


    Then he reached into the box for the past items - three boxes of holiday cookies.


    "For you and your grandmother," I said.


    For a moment, hr just stared at everythingid out on the table. Then suddenly he stood up.


    Before I could react... he was beside me. And then, he hugged me.


    It was quick.


    But tight.


    "Thank you," he said softly.


    I smiled, patting his back. "You are wee."


    When he pulled back, his eyes were shining again.


    "You are the only other person besides my grandmother to give me presents," he admitted quietly.


    My chest tightened slightly.


    The joy in his voice was sincere. Real. And hearing it tugged gently at my heart.


    He returned to his seat and looked down at the items again. Then back at me.


    His expression had changed slightly. There was something deeper in his eyes now. Something heavier.


    "I always thought..." he began slowly. But then he hesitated.


    I tilted my head and asked, "Thought what?"


    He took a small breath. For a moment I thought he wouldn’t say it, but then he spoke, "I believed I would never receive the love of a sister in my life."


    The words came out carefully.


    "But then I met you."


    My heart softened.


    "And it made me realize..." he continued quietly, "...that maybe I’m not as unwanted as a brother as-"


    He stopped. His voice trailed off as emotions overwhelmed him.


    I frowned slightly. "As what?" I asked gently.


    He hesitated for a moment. Then he looked at me again.


    "I used to have a sister."


    That caught me off guard.


    "You did?"


    He nodded slowly before dropping his gaze to the table.


    "I loved her a lot."


    There was a pause. Then he continued in a much quieter voice.


    "But she never loved me."


    My brows knit together.


    "She never saw me as her brother," he added. "Instead..." He swallowed. "She always thought of me as a monster."


    The words felt heavy in the quiet room.


    "A monster," he finished softly, "who was ruining her life."