The young girl was wrapped in a bathrobe, her legs together exposed, her little head resting on her knees.
She looked like a stray cat or dog cast out from ho, curled up into a small ball there.
Ethan Blackwood couldn’t bring himself to stay angry with her, his heart filled with tender pity.
His mind was occupied by a single thought: I’m such an idiot!
She’s so delicate and enticing, I’d let her dictate my fate; how could I let this girl suffer grievances?
Upon hearing the door open, Claire Shaw didn’t budge; perhaps she was asleep?
Ethan Blackwood moved to face her directly; Claire had her head against her knees, eyes closed, with long curled lashes, and her tender complexion was tinted with a gentle pink.
Ethan instantly sensed sothing was off, his large hand felt her forehead and sure enough, she had a fever!
This girl was stubborn just a while ago, claiming she wouldn’t drink ginger tea even if she caught a cold and got a fever, headache, or chills.
Good things never happen, but bad things sohow do.
Ethan bent over and carried her back to the bedroom, making a quick phone call.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang, and outside stood a tall person wearing glasses.
He carried a dical kit, first taking a glance at the apartnt layout, then pushing his glasses, a mocking smile on his thin lips: "What’s this? Did The Blackwood Family go bankrupt because of the cold weather?"
Is that phrase really popular?
Ethan Blackwood couldn’t be bothered with Nathan Grant’s teasing, and imdiately inford him of Claire’s condition: "She’s in the bedroom, preliminary diagnosis is she caught a chill from the rain and has a fever, physical cooling thods have been attempted but to no effect."
Nathan Grant sized him up and down, "The person that makes you this anxious must be that young girl."
"Enough with the nonsense."
Ethan bore a cold deanor, urgently urging Nathan to examine her.
Nathan was filled with curiosity; their group all knew that Ethan had soone special in his heart, yet kept it deeply hidden, and no one knew who the real person was.
The modest-sized bedroom had a bedside lamp on, casting a warm yellow glow that was gentle, not affecting sleep.
Looking at Ethan, seeming like a rough man, unexpectedly showing such attention to a woman.
Claire’s body was wrapped tightly in a quilt, only her face was uncovered; at first glance, Nathan thought he’d seen a mummy.
Ethan had her covered up so tightly, clearly guarding against him.
Nathan pushed his glasses up his nose, "Mr. Blackwood, first and foremost I’m a doctor, secondly, I’m not a pervert, and lastly I wouldn’t be so shaless as to have any ideas about my sister-in-law."
Ethan obviously didn’t believe him, bypassing his body to pull back the quilt with his large hand.
Nathan’s lips curled, "Playing this big? I’m still here."
Unexpectedly, Ethan pulled a thermoter from under Claire’s arm, frowning he responded coldly, "Thirty-nine point eight degrees."
Nathan’s expression turned serious, "That’s quite high; the temperature needs to be lowered quickly."
Claire was having a dream; she was alone on Pyralia.
The mountain roads were rough, with fire everywhere, no matter how far she walked, she couldn’t see an end.
It seed she was chasing soone, but she couldn’t rember who; all she could do was endlessly endure through the flas.
"Water..."
She murmured subconsciously, then her mouth felt cool.
Claire guzzled readily, aware that sothing warm and soft seed to be pressed against her lips.
What was it?
She instinctively sucked gently.
The ambiguous sound in the night was especially distinct.
Nathan was nearly glued to his glasses with disbelief.
What did he just witness!!!
The typically aloof and restrained man was leaning at the bedside, patiently feeding water to the young girl, sip by sip.
Nathan thought he was seeing things, wanting to move closer for a clearer look, but Ethan’s threatening gaze fell upon his face.
Like an intruder on a beast’s territory, the beast’s eyes filled with a lust for blood, forcing Nathan back a few steps.
"Brother, don’t be tense; I was just checking on how my sister-in-law is doing."
Ethan glanced towards the door: "Get out, and take the kitchen trash with you on your way."
"Got it~"
By now, dawn was breaking; Ethan spent the whole night tending to her without getting changed, reaching out again to check Claire’s forehead before finally letting out a breath.
Knowing she wakes up early due to her biological clock, he headed to the kitchen, soaked so beans, got out so millet, and even poured out quite so flour.
Unsure of what she might want to eat, he decided to prepare several different breakfasts; at least one should be to her liking.
He busied himself so deeply, he’d failed to notice his phone had run out of battery and shut off.
Claire awoke to the sound of rain on the window, barely opened her eyes, feeling soreness spreading across her body.
It felt as if soone stuffed her throat with a hundred razor blades while she slept; her throat hurt and was dry.
Her head was pounding, her forehead aching, like a woodpecker incessantly pecking a tree in her mind.
Her body felt sticky and uncomfortable as her pajamas clung tight to her skin.
Everything from last night replayed in her mind; that’s right, she made Ethan angry.
Where was Ethan?
Had he already left?
At the thought of him, Claire swiftly flung the quilt and got up, not even bothering to put on her shoes.
Her bare feet hit the floor, the door to the guestroom was wide open, the quilt on the bed neatly folded, showing no signs of being slept in.
A fleeting sense of emptiness crossed Claire’s heart as she suddenly heard sounds coming from the kitchen.
Imdiately Claire dashed off quickly, and upon seeing the tall figure bustling in the kitchen, her hollow heart was suddenly filled.
Ethan turned around, spotting the girl in her pajamas, standing obediently at the kitchen entrance.
The large fox-like eyes were filled with mist as she gazed at him, hoarsely saying pitifully: "Ethan Blackwood, I ache so much~"
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