Lost Me Gained Regret

Gregory shot me a sidelong glance, not engaging in conversation, his grip on my wrist unyielding, leaving no room for me to pull away.

He pulled out his phone and made a call.

Shortly after, a server came in with antiseptic wipes and a tube of ointment.

Gregory snapped one of the wipes and gently cleaned my wound, his long lashes shadowing his emotions, but his voice was unmistakably muffled, "I can't control what happened to you in the past, but from now on, you need to take better care of yourself."

"The areas where you're careless, I'll cover for you."

My heart trembled slightly, and tears welled up in my eyes, my lips quivering, almost wanting to cry.

Turns out, it's not just sadness that can bring tears.

Before I could even speak, Gregory, a man who once claimed he was never good at delicate tasks like tending to wounds, was now applying the ointment with such care and precision, a focus I had never seer even when he was signing multimillion-dollar deals.

The cool ointment felt like electricity spreading through my body, making me instinctively shrink back.

me

that, it doesn't

Truthfully, it wasn't painful.

the cool ointment felt way better than the constant rubbing of my

swiftly putting it aside. He then scooped

his eyes filled with resignation

can't stand to

a little

ears,

before, I didn't close my eyes instinctively; I wanted to engrave this moment of deep affection into

particularly good at initiating kisses,

it, and when I noticed his body's reaction, my cheeks flushed, and I moved

close, the other pinching my cheek, "Alcohol really does give you

"Knock, knock-"

like a flower, her teasing evident: