Love Unspoken

The sound was not particularly loud, but it was sufficient to startle them both. Quinn found herself watching as Alexander made his entrance, his weariness evident in every step. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him, the man she had once yearned for. Now, however, his mere presence made it difficult for her to draw breath. A shortened life was, after all, what she desired most, a means to escape her daily torment.

The doctor, feeling a pang of guilt, wondered if Alexander had overheard his earlier warning. He rose awkwardly from his seat, addressing the newcomer, "Mr. Kennedy." Alexander's approach brought with it a palpable chill. He took a seat beside Quinn, asking, "How is she?"

"The fever has subsided. If it doesn't return tonight, she should be fine," the doctor informed him.

Alexander gave a nod of acknowledgment, "You may leave us."

Relieved, the doctor hastily made his exit, leaving them alone in the room.

The silence that followed was thick, heavy. Quinn found herself staring at Alexander, her heart heavy with suppressed emotions that weighed on her like a stone. Alexander glanced down at her, reaching out to touch her forehead. Quinn, however, turned her head away.

His gaze darkened, but he persisted, placing his cool hand on her forehead. His touch was not icy, but it held the coolness of marble. "Quinn," he murmured softly.

She stiffened, her lips pressed together, refusing to meet his gaze.

Alexander gently cupped her face, turning it toward him, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted that way last night. Can you forgive me?"

meet his. There was an uncharacteristic gentleness in his eyes, a reminder of better times. But it was just an illusion. It wouldn't be long before he reverted to his cold, ferocious self. He was merely trying to coax his pet,

hers, as he whispered soothingly, "Whatever happened between you and him over these past

I'll make him

anything, in his face. But

angry, okay?" He pinched her hand

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have her wagging her tail back into his favor. He had a firm grip on her, always. Because he was an expert

resentments that had been building up inside her burst forth, and she

a gesture of her hand, she asked,

hand, and

to ask any more questions. His silence was the

disappointment crept into her eyes. The heaviness in her heart pressed down,

and sighed

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would be petty and narrow-minded if I don't