The largest piece of shattered glass had already been removed, and Charlotte Miller lay completely prone on the examination bed. It certainly hurt as the surrounding muscle fibers of the wound were tugged while the glass was being extracted, but she hadn’t anticipated that the real pain was yet to co.
The doctor needed to begin cleaning and disinfecting; while all the visible shard fragnts had been picked up, there were undoubtedly minuscule sand-like pieces that were nearly invisible to the naked eye, which could only be thoroughly cleaned through washing.
As the doctor rinsed the wound with the disinfectant solution, prepared to the right proportions, Charlotte couldn’t help but let out a cry. It was indeed painful, as several wounds were clustered together.
"Miss Miller, avoid consuming deep-colored foods for now; there’s a risk of pigntation deposition." After finishing the procedure and readying to bandage, the ergency room door was suddenly thrust open.
"What’s going on, what’s the matter with you, how could you just rush in here, leave quickly..." The doctor was startled. Who would dare to barge into an ergency room?
There’s a female patient here; if soone were to intrude, it could lead to charges of voyeurism or breaches of patient privacy, serious accusations no one can afford.
Atlas Hallow was waiting at the door, anxious with worry, his forehead practically steaming. Upon hearing a faint cry of pain from inside, he could no longer hold himself back and pushed open the door to barge in.
The doctor looked at the man standing in front of him, tall and handso, yet his face was filled with coldness as if everyone owed him money.
Atlas looked at Charlotte, who was lying on the examination bed, and his heart clenched slightly.
These weren’t fatal injuries, but they were certainly painful for her.
What was she wearing? If it weren’t for the backless dress, perhaps she wouldn’t have gotten hurt so badly?
Moreover, why was it a male doctor? Had all the female doctors in the hospital vanished? Didn’t they know it would be more appropriate to have a female doctor handle the wound?
Even while lying down, Charlotte could sense Atlas Hallow’s presence. The distinct musk emanating from him overpowered the faint scent of disinfectant in the hospital, filling the entire room with his unique, sharp masculine aura, a powerful presence that compelled retreat.
"Do you know each other?" The doctor observed Atlas Hallow’s expression and roughly predicted their relationship.
The man’s eyes were filled with concern and anxiety, feelings that couldn’t be faked.
"I’ll just need bandaging now." The doctor didn’t have much to say. Since these two obviously knew each other, they were likely a couple.
If the female patient didn’t object, it would be better to let the man stay.
"I’ll do it. You leave..." Atlas Hallow’s voice carried an irresistible command, his cold, sinister gaze sweeping over the young male doctor.
"How is that possible?" This was a hospital; asking a doctor to leave, wasn’t even about capturing territory here.
"Leave..." Atlas said coldly, the air seeming to freeze, chilling to the bone.
Though he had removed all the glass pieces and the wounds had been disinfected, bandaging was not the most crucial step. It was his duty, how could he just leave?
"Thank you, doctor. Let him handle it." The woman lying on the bed spoke softly, and with the patient’s consent, the doctor simply opened the door and left.
Upon hearing Charlotte’s words, the ice-cold look in Atlas Hallow’s eyes slowly softened. As the doctor stepped out, he returned to give additional advice: "Apply dicine every day and change the bandages with fresh gauze. Sleeping prone at night is best, and avoid wearing bras for a few days as it might aggravate the wound. Also, avoid strenuous activities to prevent pressure on the wound." After finishing, he left for good.
"He’s too young, lacking experience. There are many ways to do things that wouldn’t pressure a wound." Atlas’s thick lashes revealed his dark eyes fixated on the wound, his thin lips curving into a playful smile.
"Your experience is that comndable?" Charlotte half lifted herself, indeed the bodyguards were quite talkative, but she couldn’t bla them, after all, keeping silent might cause her trouble.
Her black hair scattered elegantly over her glistening shoulders, curled in sensual waves down to her back. Even though wounded, her slightly lifted body remained as graceful as a swan, beautiful and noble, invoking compassion.
"Don’t move..." He worried her hair might touch the wound, striding over to gently gather her hair, cradling Charlotte’s slender body, half lifting her to rest on his broad shoulder.
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