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The next day, when Joyce woke up from her sleep, she was curling up on the sofa in her suite and covered with a blanket. It was
actually so uncomfortable.
Inside the room, the curtains were drawn tightly, and not a single ray of light could get in.
She looked at the phone beside her and was surprised that it was already ten in the morning.
It was really a long deep sleep.
Last night, she bandaged Luther's arm, took a hasty shower, washed her face, and reapplied the mask.
After another careful check and she was sure that the bleeding on his arm had been stopped, she then went to sleep.
It seemed, there was still no movement inside the room. Was he still sleeping? There was no way he could have slept until this
point and not woken up.
Was it possible that the effect of yesterday's medicine had not yet passed? Or did something happen?
She got up suspiciously and walked gingerly into the room.
She approached him slowly. She then heard the sound of his even breathing and saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. She
turned on the light and was relieved to see that his face looked normal and she turned it off again.
It was good that everything was okay, so she just let him sleep a while more.
Thinking that way, she turned to leave.
Unexpectedly, suddenly, the hem of her coat was tugged, and she stood still in a daze.
"Don't go." Luther murmured, "I'm awake."
"Oh."
"I'm going to pull the curtains open."
She was ready to walk to the window, but he still pulled at the hem of her shirt, just like a child.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtShe looked back at him helplessly, "What's wrong? Letgo.”
“This is not your presidential suite, and we don’t have automatic curtains here.
“You are now, sleeping in my room!"
"I know. Just chere."
He sat up from the bed and supported himself up. Last night his shirt was wrinkled into a mess, and now it seemed to stick to him
nicely.
He gave it a hard pull.
She dropped to the edge of the bed.
He moved over from beside her. They were so close that she could even feel his burning breath spraying on the nape of her neck.
He lifted his hand and when he touched her hair...
She flinched a bit, and immediately tensed up, "What are you doing? Have the effects of the drug not passed yet?"
Luther let out a low laugh, "I'm already fine. What are you thinking? | just found a feather on top of your hair."
He plucked a feather from her hair and handed it to her. He raised his narrow eyebrows and looked at her playfully, "Don't be
nervous. If | really want to do anything, | did it last night. No need to wait until morning."
She angrily threw the feather on the floor. It must have been from the cushions she slept on last night.
He had such sharp eyes and could see clearly in such a dark room.
Now that he was in such good spirits, he must be fine.
"Now that you're awake, get up and go to your own room." She sounded pretty annoyed.
Luther's entire body was resting on the bed, and he complained, "I felt tired. | didn't eat dinner last night, and | got tossed and
turned all night, and | bled a lot. I'm tired and hungry. | don't have the strength to get up now."
Why would he sound so strange? What could he mean by “tossed and turned”? Who was actually tossed and turned all night?
"I didn't have dinner either, okay?" She glared at him, stood up, and pulled the curtains open slightly.
She was even more tired and hungry?
The room was instantly bright as the glorious sunlight shone in.
Luther subconsciously raised his hand and blocked the blinding light.
"You go and buy breakfast, and buy a little more.”
“I want buns, congee, rice cakes, dumplings, and soy milk. Perhaps you can even getsomething special in the Capital. I'm
hungry."
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