NovelAppRemington's burn was indeed quite severe.
Lizetta's struggles suddenly ceased when she felt the scorching heat from his palm. That warmth seemed to travel through her skin, circulate in her blood, and gather in her heart, stirring emotions deep within her soul. It was a whirlwind of emotions, tearing her apart.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtLizetta frowned, her voice cold again, "I said let go! Didn't you say you'd be a good ex-husband and leavealone? So stop showing up like a bad penny and scaring me!" Remington paused, a slight smirk replacing his initial surprise, his eyes sparkling with an unusual gleam. "Liz, you heard everything I said? You woke up because of my words, right? It waswho brought you back, wasn't it?" His eyes were filled with hope, as if this was something to be celebrated.
Lizetta's response was a sneer, "Yeah, hearing you promise to leavealone for good madereally happy. But I guess old habits die hard, and I was too naive to believe it." Despite her harsh words, Remington's handsface showed neither impatience nor anger. He even offered a slight smile. Since she had woken up, he hadn't seen her. In his memory, she lay pale and lifeless on the bed, as if she'd never wake again. Seeing her so alive and sharp-tongued was a balm to him, even if it meant taking a few verbal jabs.
"You're still too thin, not a bit of flesh on your face." Remington's voice was hoarse as he unconsciously caressed her slender wrist, his fingertips gently running over her bony arm.
Lizetta jerked away fiercely. "Ouch!" Remington cried out, staggering back a few steps and leaning against the wall, his face turning pale, lips tightly pressed together forehead beaded with sweat. Blood dripped from his hand. Clearly, Lizetta's forceful action had aggravated his burn, bursting a few blisters.
"You... are insane, you brought this on yourself!" Lizetta bit her lip angrily, then turned and stormed out through the doorway. As she walked away, her thoughts turned to why she had cto thank the brave soul who had intervened on behalf of Mrs. Bernice Madden.
Her brows knitted tighter, but then she thought, Remington was a grown man, and in a hospital; wouldn't he seek medical attention for his own injuries? Lizetta felt there was no need to concern herself with him.
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Yet, as she walked away, there was no sound from the stairwell behind her. Remington hadn't followed, mor alled for help. The image of Remington, pale and leaning against the wall, as if he could barely stand, flashed through her mind. Could he have passed out from the pain?
Her steps slowed, and finally, with a sigh, she turned back. Upon her return, she found Remington in an sorry state, seated against the wall, one leg bent, his injured arm resting on his knee, his head down and eyes closed. His unkempt hair hid his face, adding a touch of vulnerable desolation.
Hearing her approach, he fluttered his eyelashes but did not open his om eyes. "Badass Remington! Are you passed out, or dead? If you don't open your eyes right now, I'm calling the morgue." Lizetta approached and kicked his leg lightly. Remington opened his eyes and looked up at her. A smile played in his eyes; he knew she wouldn't leave him behind.
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