The way her eyes creased gently when she smiled. The curve of her shoulder as she leaned forward. The quiet hum in her throat as she comforted soone. The way the children sward around her as though she were their gravity.
And most of all, how naturally she let them touch her.
How freely she gave herself to others now.
When once, she had only ever belonged to him. He was contemplating whether he should lock her away again. He didn’t like the way her attention was on other people; he didn’t like the way she was coming into contact with other people’s skin!
Could he say he was crazy that he wanted her to himself? That he wanted to lock her away from people?
Maybe he was crazy.
But what did it matter?
But sothing deep down was telling him to take her back ho and lock her away....
He wanted all of it..
The warmth of her hands, the curve of her smile, the softness in her voice when she spoke gently to soone else.
He wanted it all for himself. And not to be shared with anyone else. Not passed around. Not given freely to the world.
Just him. Only him.
Her fingers brushing over soone’s sleeve, her braid being tugged, her laugh drifting softly through the room, every mont she gave to soone else felt like a theft.
Of what was his? Solely his!
His pulse burned in silence, and his fingers curled tightly around the folder in his hand, knuckles pale and stiff. If obsession could be bottled, he was overflowing.
Jealousy wasn’t the right word for it anymore. It was far deeper, far darker. An ache that turned to hunger, one that no logic could soothe.
His thoughts turned possessive, toxic even, spiraling into a madness only she could pull him out of. Could he bla her? She was just kind and gentle, and he? He didn’t want anyone to see that.
’Should I bring her ho right now? Cancel the rest of the day? Call the driver? Seal her away?’
It wasn’t the first ti he had such thoughts from the mont he agreed to set her free.
And it wouldn’t be the last.
Because every part of him scread mine.
His knuckles were pale now, gripping the folder like a man ready for war.
Even Huo Wu and Huo Zheng had glanced at him warily, sensing the dangerously shifting aura around their boss.
They had seen this before and it wasn’t sothing new to them.
They knew the signs, and they were already showing. This was the sa reason they had fought for the last few years, he wasn’t spiraling back to instability, right?
From within the ward, Tang Fei, who had just finished tucking a blanket over an old woman’s frail legs, paused.
As though sensing sothing.
She slowly straightened, her hand still gently resting on the patient’s arm, but her gaze lifted instinctively, drawn to the burning heat that had settled at the edge of her awareness.
And then gazed at him, how could she not feel that burning gaze? She was an assassin in her last life, so how could she not notice that big change in his emotions?
Huo Ting Cheng’s gaze at her sharpened like a knife. His obsidian eyes bore into her, intense, silent, yet overflowing with sothing both suffocating and unmistakably raw.
Her heart skipped a beat, not out of fear, but sothing far more complicated, because she could feel the obsession from miles away and even tensed to greet so won who were close by, stretching their hands.
For a mont, she simply looked at him, their eyes locked through the distance and the noise of the ward.
And then....
She smiled.
Not a big, playful smile.
Just a warm, gentle curve of the lips. It was soft and reassuring. The kind of smile that used to be his anchor during his darkest nights.
He didn’t smile back. He couldn’t and his face had always been frigid.
But his jaw was unclenched ever so slightly. The tablet in his grip loosened by a fraction. The shadows in his eyes retreated, if only a little.
The storm inside his chest didn’t disappear.
But it stilled, like the storm had settled down.
For now.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
She had felt it long before she saw it.
That dense, stifling air, like the pressure in the room had shifted.
Not heavy enough to choke her, but sharp, like needles grazing her skin.
At first, she thought it was her own heart reacting. But when she turned and saw his wrinkled face, she knew he was becoming grumpy.
He was leaning casually against the doorfra in his casual outfit, tall and imposing as ever. His expression is unreadable to most, but not to her. It’s been a few months but she could understand him.
His eyes were darker than the dim hallway shadows that frad him.
They weren’t watching the children.
They weren’t observing the elderly.
They were locked on her.
Like a predator watching his mate.
Or a man who had let go of sothing too precious once, and now would rather burn the world before he let that happen again.
Her breath caught, but only for a second.
Then, as naturally as the sun rising after a long night, she smiled.
Not out of obligation.
Not out of politeness.
But because even when he stood wrapped in cold fury, even when she sensed that dark, gnawing obsession in his gaze...
He was still her husband.
Even though he was flawed, possessive, and unrelenting, he was still hers. Her husband.
And if she didn’t smile at him now, he’d spiral down and chaos would erupt.
He always did.
She tilted her head slightly, the smile in her eyes gentling his sharpness. A silent ssage, wordless but full:
I see you, I’m yours and I’m not going anywhere.
And just like that, she saw it....
The tension in his jaw imdiately eased. His shoulders relaxed by a fraction.
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