9-His beloved
“Ouch--damn it!”
I muttered out every time the fluffy cotton touched my wound. It wasn’t that big but the cut was too deep. Ang hapdi pa naman ng alcohol at betadine—pero guess who’s my attending physician?
“Hold still.”
He was carefully holding my right palm while I was on the edge of my bed while Travis-the-handsome-physician was kneeling right before me.
Jeez.. He’s expert hands bought tiny electrons to my senses that seemed heal my wound a bit faster—mas nararamadam ko pa ang ‘kilig momentum’ kaysa sa hapdi ng alcohol!
“T-Thank you.” I cordially uttered as he was wrapping the bandage on my palm. He’s cold hazel eyes intercept mine—still, emotionless. Does he really feel nothing when I’m around?
The hell, Cahira! That was eleven years ag
