She just couldn’t accept Julian Eas’s situation yet...
Holding her hand, he felt the dampness in her palm, and as he lowered his head and turned over her hand, he saw a blood-red mark. He frowned slightly, sowhat lost in thought.
Tiana Thorne didn’t notice his expression; giving her hand to him didn’t an she was going with him. She took a deep breath before speaking again: "I’ll leave once he’s out."
"Mm."
This ti, he didn’t refuse. With his other hand, he cupped her face and planted a comforting kiss on her forehead, not pulling away: "The ground is cold."
His breath lingered around her nostrils, carrying his unique scent. Her heart, devoid of any sense of security, gradually felt a bit more at ease.
Then, he stretched out his long arms, lifted her in a bridal carry, and walked over to a nearby bench, gently placing her down.
May Sloane watched this scene, a sour feeling in her nose, grateful for Fourth Master. It seed only Fourth Master could make her relax.
When she ran up earlier, her toes hurt. Once there, she simply took off her shoes, only then noticing his gaze on her right foot bleeding through.
Aiden Shaw didn’t sit beside him; instead, he half-knelt by her feet, with four slender fingers grasping his sleeves. Delicately, he wiped the dust off her foot, a deep emotion in his eyes slowly spreading.
She wanted to pull back her foot but was held by him, unable to move an inch.
She pursed her lips and said, "Your clothes are getting dirty."
"Dust might cause an infection."
Tiana Thorne’s gaze sparkled with starlight; the sunlight streaming through the window cast light and shadow on him, forming shallow yet distinct patterns.
If not for this incident, she couldn’t have imagined him being so gentle.
Aiden Shaw didn’t look up, nor did he stop wiping the dust off her foot: "Sixteen, others’ lives or deaths have nothing to do with . You are mine, and I can’t accept you neglecting your own body for him, even if he saved your life."
She slightly opened her lips, suddenly not knowing how to respond to him.
"No one can compare to you. If you persist in hurting yourself sitting by the door for him, I can’t forgive you, because to , he is he, and you are you. He saved your life, and I will express gratitude in my way, but never by letting you get hurt again."
He spoke to her in a calm voice, his low and pleasing tone not threatening, as if discussing ordinary matters, yet every word hit straight to the heart.
In this world, true empathy doesn’t exist. She couldn’t comprehend his previous emotions, but understanding his words wasn’t hard.
He wanted to convey that nothing anyone else did would leave a mark on him, because he only cared about her life and every bit of her, indifferent to anything else.
This was the truest possessiveness of a man who loves her, even sowhat obsessive.
At this mont, the fact that he didn’t forcibly take her away was the greatest compromise he could make for her and Julian Eas.
Her hand involuntarily trembled for a mont; indeed, that fleeting feeling wasn’t an illusion.
So, he thought she was wholeheartedly thinking of Julian Eas and would abandon him for saving her life. Stretching out his hand to her was his last act of gentleness, wasn’t it?
Tiana Thorne lowered her head to look at him, unable to see his face clearly, only noticing those feet he had wiped clean, blood staining the cuffs of his white shirt, like blooming roses, sowhat shocking.
She felt a sourness at the tip of her nose, her eyes hot and moist, unable to help but mutter, her voice trembling: "Brother Four..."
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