Annabelle got angry and said she was leaving.
Just as I turned around, Kendrick grabbed me.
He should have wanted to hold her hand, but because he was lying in bed, he didn't manage to hold it and only grabbed onto a corner of her clothing.
Annabelle looked down at the large hand clutching her clothes, with an IV needle still inserted in the back of the hand.
Looking at the big man on the bed again, the sharpness and dominance in his eyes were gone, replaced only by a melancholic expression, and even a touch of pitifulness.
Annabelle's heart softened as she watched.
Originally, there was a bit of nameless anger, but when the words of anger reached my lips, it became a complaining sentence, "Are you not allowed to leave?"
"Are you angry, or is there really something wrong?"
"There w
