Wait! How Did The Stray Dog I Picked Up Turn Into A Man?!

For someone who had been served all his life, serving someone as stubborn as me so meticulously must’ve been insulting to him, but he held on for the sake of living.

Just how great was his life that even without his memories, his ego wouldn’t let him die?

And what if his memories never came back?

Would I when to keep dealing with this version of him? Ah, it was no different from living in a house all by myself but at least then, I did not worry about someone suddenly walking in the living room or silent noises coming from the kitchen.

It was really like living with a ghost.

Three days after returning from the hospital, I had yet to hear a proper sentence from Noah or hold a conversation with him.

The only things he said were, ’Good morning,’ ’I’m ordering take out,’ and ’Good night,’

It was as if he didn’t want to care for me beyond these levels anymore. He was not trying to curry favor with me and was truly living like he was dead.

He didn’t care that I wasn’t taking my baths and going out of my room. When it was time for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he would simply come to me and say he was ordering food, and no matter what I said or did, he would simply carry out what he had in his mind.

It was my phone he was using and my money but still, he didn’t care.

I decided not to bother with him since he wasn’t disturbing me. Even his sleepwalking attitude had completely vanished. At least, that was what I liked to believe since he never came to my bed in the middle of the night, which was a good thing but... I noticed something strange. Noah... never ordered food for himself.

It was as if he was fasting but there was no decline in his physique or complexion. One would never even guess he hadn’t eaten for almost two weeks just from looking at him.

Was it a werewolf thing?

I needed to find out.

I picked up my laptop and checked the Internet.

In fiction, werewolves are often depicted as resilient and capable of surviving for extended periods without sustenance. However, this would likely come at a cost to their physical and mental well-being.

If they are inactive, they drain less energy and thus conserve energy and survive longer without food.

I saw so many things about werewolves surviving on water alone for a long period of time. I also saw something like werewolves having unique metabolic pathways that allow them to generate energy from unconventional sources, such as moonlight or magical energies.

Hm, does it mean he draws energy from the moon? This is sort of confusing. I understand he’s been inactive for a few days and just watching me on my sick bed when I was sick and afterwards, simply taking the takeout from the door and handing it to me, but does he really not need to eat anything?

Wait, am I getting worried for him right now? No, I was just curious, that’s all. If he doesn’t need to eat and can live like that, then it is fine. It didn’t bother me.

Only, it did.

I don’t know what kind of magic had been cast on me but I found myself spying on Noah when I thought he wasn’t looking. I wondered what he did with his spare time, and if he actually sneaked a bit of food to eat, but strangely, he simply sat in one place, his eyes closed as if he was meditating. And he did that for the whole day.

As soon as it was lunch or dinner time, he would open his eyes right away as if he were a programmed robot.

It was creepy but at the same time, alarming. What was going on with him?

His head wasn’t broken or anything, right? I kept getting worried even though I shouldn’t bother about him so one day, I decided to talk to him.

Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much from our conversation. I was prepared to do all the talking and walk away without a single response from him.

"Noah," I called, sitting in front of him. "Are you alright?" I asked but he did not respond. ’Seriously, what is he? A voice mailbox or something?’

While talking to him, it felt like I was talking to someone who was possibly somewhere across the world. Someone unreachable, someone I couldn’t touch and look in the eye, and I could only leave a voice mail because they were awfully busy.

It wasn’t annoying but rather depressing. It made one desperate to reach the other person already, hear their voice, and be assured that they were doing okay and all the worry was for nothing.

’Seriously, what am I doing? I don’t feel indebted to him since I saved him first. If anything, we’re even. So, I can’t say I’m worried because I was in his debt.’

There was no excuse to put forth for my worry. I couldn’t even find a way to deny it. It was hard and suffocating.

I was truly worried. I wanted him to be okay.

Maybe not talking to anyone for a while after always getting regularly nagged made me miss his old ways. His old nagging and caring way, the one who wouldn’t leave me be if I wanted to eat properly or to stay in bed all day.

I missed arguing with him.

How long had it been since I got back from the hospital? Six, seven, eight... One week and a day. That’s how long this silence has lasted.

Was he going to keep at this till he regained his memories? Silence?

Shit, I was lonely. There, I said it. I was so freaking lonely and worried that I had flipped a switch in Noah, making him act like a programmed robot.

"Noah, do you... Want to go out and grab a bite?" I asked, putting in an effort to show my sincerity. "Staying home all day must’ve tired you out, right? You do nothing all day and sit in one place. I’m sure you’d like to stretch your legs, right?"

Still, no response. I bit my lip and then stood up.

I walked to where he was sitting and sat next to him.

I admitted I was lonely, but I was sure Noah was feeling way more lonely than I was. After all, he was left in a world with no memories and no one to lean on.

I felt guilty and sad at the same time.

"Noah," I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. "How do I make it up to you?"