Blake Sinclair imdiately clasped his hand, holding hers, pulling her to sit by the bed.
Holly Crowe looked at his frail appearance and then lowered her head to look at their intertwined fingers.
"Blake Sinclair, there won’t be a next ti. I need to know everything, good or bad. I have fears too, but trust isn’t built on concealnt."
"Okay, there absolutely won’t be a next ti, I promise."
Holly obediently leaned on his uninjured shoulder, "If there is a next ti, I will really leave, and you won’t be able to find again....."
Before she could finish, he lifted her chin with one hand, sealing her words with a kiss.
This kiss wasn’t like the usual gentle and lingering ones, but rather carried a sense of urgency and unease from regaining what was lost, as if Blake Sinclair was using this to confirm her presence.
As the kiss ended, their foreheads touched, breathing intertwined.
"Holly, don’t leave ..." he panted softly, with a hint of stubborn vulnerability, "I’ll go crazy.."
Holly looked into his eyes, reached out carefully avoiding his injury, tightly wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his embrace.
With an embrace, she silently conveyed her compromise and the unease hidden in her heart.
Outside the ward, Shannon Yarrow clearly saw the two embracing inside through the small glass window on the door.
Her hand clenched against the wall until it turned white, and finally, her eyes darkened, she turned and left.
The sound of high heels hitting the floor in the corridor was exceptionally clear.
Blake Sinclair’s injury was a surprise to everyone.
The "Success" program team quickly issued an official apology statent on Weibo.
Even though the program team imdiately cut off the live broadcast, the clip of Blake Sinclair getting injured while protecting Holly was still recorded and uploaded online.
Public opinion was bubbling, Shannon’s fans angrily accused the program team of security negligence, while the fans of Blake and Holly felt sorry for Blake, they still found sweetness amidst the chaos.
No one noticed, a group of sharp-eyed spectators raised pointed questions:
"Am I the only one who noticed Holly was pushed out? The angle and force were obviously off."
"I replayed it ten tis! At that ti, Shannon was the only one behind Holly. If President Sinclair hadn’t appeared, Holly would have crashed straight into the shattered porcelain wall, unimaginable consequences."
"Stop with the conspiracy theories, why don’t you say Holly was careless? She reacted so quickly to pull Shannon, she must’ve long noticed sothing was wrong with the man, why didn’t she alert earlier?"
"Wow, your nonsense is so convincing you could be a fortune teller, clearly Holly saved Shannon!"
"Stop arguing! Didn’t you notice before the live ended, Shannon was almost throwing herself at Blake? I always felt Shannon’s eyes on Blake were unusual, they surely have a story."
"Speaking of which, on the day Blake officially announced, Shannon posted ’I wish you well’ in the super topics. Could it be that those two...."
"Stop arguing about the Blake-Holly couple! Blake loves Holly the most! No more argunts."
The storm of controversy online didn’t affect the calm and peace in reality.
After Blake Sinclair was injured, Holly pushed everything aside and accompanied him recuperating at the hotel, leisurely helping him change his bandages every day.
Fortunately, the program recording had finished, so Holly took it as an early vacation, planning to return to Beldon once he recovered sufficiently.
Perhaps her intense reaction last ti scared him, or perhaps the injury made him extra clingy, but in recent days, whenever she left his sight, he’d find her with great precision, like a walking large pendant.
Earlier, a university student, Tiffany Thorne, whom Holly t on "Success," texted her, saying she wanted to give her a gift before she left and was already downstairs at the hotel.
Not wanting to keep her waiting, Holly told Blake she was going down to et soone and stepped out.
The young girl had simple and delightful intentions, coming all the way to give her a farewell gift, so Holly took her for so desserts at the hotel.
But in just that short ti, Blake called her multiple tis.
With no choice, Holly put her phone on do not disturb, but after just a few bites of cake, Tiffany was called back by the program team.
After seeing Tiffany off at the hotel entrance, Holly turned and saw Blake leaning against a pillar in the lobby, watching her unblinkingly.
Holly still harbored a small anger from his chain calls, walking past him on purpose without looking, heading straight for the elevator.
Knowing he was in the wrong, Blake quickly followed her, squeezing into the elevator just before the doors closed.
He took the gift bag from her hand, his voice softened, "What do you want for lunch?"
After returning to the room, he set his things down and directly wrapped her in his arms, with a tone seeking favor, "Holly, pay attention to ."
"Blake Sinclair, I just went downstairs to et soone, I won’t run away." Holly said firmly.
"I know." Yet his hold was still tight.
"Next ti, don’t do this again."
"Okay." He agreed quickly.
"The program texted asking to reshoot so promotional photos in the afternoon, and I might have dinner with them tonight."
Holly still reported her plans.
"Then I’ll go with you..."
"No way!"
Holly directly quashed his idea, "You stay at the hotel. If you dare to follow , I’ll fly back to Beldon imdiately."
"...Okay."
Blake reluctantly compromised, falling back on, "But let know when you’re about to finish, and I’ll co get you."
"Hmm."
Thinking about how he was standing downstairs earlier, Holly’s gaze fell to his back, "Turn around, lift your shirt, let see the wound."
Blake obediently turned, directly taking off his shirt, revealing the lines of his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
On a usual day, Holly would have indulged in the view, but all she could see now were the large dical plasters on his back.
The edges of his skin had already ford scabs, looking much improved.
Holly gently touched the area not covered by the plaster, "Alright, put it back on."
Blake didn’t expect her to finish looking so quickly, slowly putting his shirt back on, wishing each movent could be slowed tenfold.
"The wound seems to be healing well, so you can bathe yourself today, no need for my help, right?"
As soon as she said this, Blake took a sharp breath, "Ah."
He turned, grabbing her hand before she could retract it, "It’s not fully healed, it still hurt when I turned just now. Holly, help for a few more days, please?"
Holly cast him a sidelong glance, when the doctor removed his bandages yesterday, he said the wound was healing fine and no longer needed assistance.
But seeing the anticipation in his eyes, she decided not to expose him, softly replying, "Hmm."
After lunch, the program’s vehicle had arrived downstairs.
Holly had inford Blake ten minutes earlier that she was heading down, yet he entangled her with the excuse of, "You can’t accompany this afternoon, and you won’t allow phone calls," pinning her on the sofa for a long kiss.
"I need to leave now; any later, I’ll be late."
"Hmm...." he responded vaguely.
"Let go of my hand!" Holly grabbed his mischievous hand.
"...Okay."
Though Blake agreed verbally, his actions were deliberately slow.
Ultimately, Holly, with the advantage of a ruthless kick, managed to break free.
The room door opened and closed, she didn’t forget to leave one last line before leaving, "Don’t follow ."
The room grew quiet.
Blake rubbed the leg she’d kicked, smiling wryly.
He just couldn’t control his desire to cling to her; after all, it was the insecurity and fear of losing her acting up in his heart.
Getting up, he was about to tidy the sofa when he heard a knock at the door.
Thinking Holly had forgotten sothing, Blake quickly walked to the door, a smile on his lips, "Did you leave sothing behind? I told you you were leaving too..."
His words froze as soon as he opened the door.
Seeing the person standing outside, the smile on Blake’s face instantly froze, gradually sinking, as his gaze turned distant and cold.
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