My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)
Chapter 469

With this, he added, "If you miss me and you miss doing it with me, then let's go home and do it until we're satisfied. This is a hospital, so it's not convenient for us to do that here."

I looked up at him. His features were impeccable and defined, which made him so handsome. I was choked with sobs as I cried out, "Hendrix, don't do this in the future. I'm not worth it. I'm not worth your life." He was stunned. His body stiffened slightly, and his voice was low and muffled. "You are worth it. Everything I do for you is worth it."

I pursed my lips and felt unspeakable discomfort and pain in my heart.

That night, although the bed in the VIP ward was big, it still couldn't compare with the one we had at home. Perhaps because I was still skittish, I didn't sleep well all night.

I kept waking up in the middle of the night. Each time I fall into deep sleep, I would dream of a blurry scene of Hendrix lying in a pool of blood.

After consecutively having the same dream, I was covered in sweat. Hendrix realized I was having a nightmare, so he held me in his arms and patted me on my back to comfort me.

I stared at him, and my heart ached. "Hendrix, you have to die after I do, okay?"

I was afraid. I didn't want to go through those heart-piercing events again.

He pouted and asked in a low voice, "What did you dream of?"

"You were gone!" As soon as I opened my mouth, my tears started flowing again, and my heart felt like a pit full of sadness and despair.

"Dummy, close your eyes and sleep. I'm always here!" He sighed and stroked my long hair.

I didn't sleep well in the hospital. The next day, after Hendrix got discharged, we went straight back to the villa.

Since Master Miller did not continue to investigate Nerissa, she then returned to the Granger Manor.

It was enough just to have Minnie in the villa. Hendrix already dismissed Heather, and Hendrix and I returned to the villa.

Due to the sleepless night I had, a terrible headache tormented my head. As soon as Hendrix arrived home, he informed me with a frown, "I'll take a bath first."

I knew that he disliked the smell of blood on his body, so he was in a hurry to take a shower. When I saw him enter the bathroom, I followed him in.

He frowned and asked, "What's the matter?"

"I'll help you wash!" I answered and raised my hand to help him take off his jacket.

When I reached out to unbuckle his belt, Hendrix suddenly held my hand in place, and his breathing sounded heavy and labored. "Alright, I can do it myself. You should go sleep!"

I frowned and scolded, "You can't get water on your wound. You can't take a shower or bath, so you can only wipe yourself clean with a towel. How are you going to do that yourself?" He frowned. "It's okay. It's not a big deal. I'll just make do."

I pursed my lips and yelled stubbornly, "I'll wipe your body for you!"

His gaze darkened, and he stared at me. With unclear intentions, he questioned, "It might backfire on you, are you sure?"

This person...

"If you do it yourself, you'll reopen the wound." I avoided the topic, suddenly feeling a little timid.

He curled his lips, pressed down on my hand, and loosened his belt. Then, he held my hand and undid the zipper. His gaze grew increasingly intense.

I was not stupid and knew what he was going to do. I suddenly withdrew my hand and said nervously, "Right then, just do it yourself. I'm going to bed."

Before I could leave the bathroom, I was already held back. He hugged me from behind, and I didn't dare to move because I was afraid of reopening his wound. He looked at me with a passionate gaze. "Can I?"

I blushed. "Your wound will reopen."

"It's just a small injury. It doesn't matter."

The temperature in the bathroom was high, and his breathing was a little heavy as he asked again, his gaze pouring into me, "Can I?"

I lowered my gaze, closed my eyes, and didn't say anything. He took it as a silent agreement.

After we finished, I was so tired that I felt like my body was about to fall apart. As I wiped my body clean, I noticed that the white gauze bandage on his wound was dyed red.

I frowned and glared at him, feeling a little angry. "Hendrix, you're bleeding again. I already told you that it wasn't okay. Look, your wound reopened."