My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)

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?"

gone!" As soon as I opened my mouth, my tears started flowing again, and my heart felt

close your eyes and sleep. I'm always here!" He sighed

next day, after Hendrix got discharged, we

Miller did not continue to investigate Nerissa, she then returned to

just to have Minnie in the villa. Hendrix already dismissed Heather, and

headache tormented my head. As soon as Hendrix arrived home, he informed me with a frown, "I'll take a bath first." Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the

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

asked, "What's

help you wash!" I answered and raised my hand to help him take

Hendrix suddenly held my hand in place, and his breathing sounded heavy and

you can only wipe yourself clean with

stubbornly,

at me. With unclear intentions, he questioned, "It might backfire on

This person...

the wound." I avoided the topic, suddenly

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