Celia returned to his side with a small glass vial in her hand, the faint clink of it meeting the bedside table breaking the silence.
The liquid inside shimmered under the dim light, its color a deep amber, thick and syrupy as it settled.
She barely spared Gon a glance as she placed it down, her movements precise, efficient.
"There," she said, her. "Drink that. It'll help."
Gon cracked an eye open just enough to peek at her.
She had crossed her arms again, standing with a practiced air of patience, but he could tell she was watching him closely, waiting for him to open his mouth and let the content in.
Gon hesitated for a moment, watching Celia carefully as she busied herself at the desk.
His heart was still beating a little faster than usual, and he could imagine the bitterness of the medicine on his tongue, but a thought crept into his mind, one that made him wonder if he could still turn this situation in his favor.
