Broken-Winged Angel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Translator: XHu

Editor: Isabelle

Quality Check: Kittsune

First Published on Ainus.h.i.+. 

When I woke up, I was already lying on a warm and cozy large bed. My body hurt like it had been run over by a dump truck back and forth a few times.

"Awake?" A graceful, masculine voice came from beside my bed.

I craned my neck with discomfort and tried to get a clearer look at the speaker. However, even the tiniest movement caused my body to feel sharp pain. The feeling of pain made tears flow uncontrollably from the corners of my eyes.

"Sweetie, don't cry." A pair of gentle large hands wiped away the sparkling tears on my face. I finally was able to see the person accompanying me beside the bed — Zhao Yi Xuan! I immediately forgot about all the pain in my body as an extreme sense of terror engulfed me, and my body curled up.

When Zhao Yi Xuan saw my fearful and guarded appearance, his bright eyes dimmed. However, he very quickly concealed that darkness. His long and powerful hand extended towards my face.

I fearfully closed my eyes tightly and bit down on my lips, waiting for another episode of painful torment on the verge of descending.  However, it only gently landed on my forehead.

"It seems like there's no fever anymore," he said tenderly.

Fever? Me? I wondered doubtfully. Ever since I was little, my body had always been excellent. Even when a cold broke out, my dad, mom, and little brother would all get sick. It was just me that stayed perfectly healthy, and I practically never got a fever.

Apparently seeing the distrust in my eyes, he took the initiative to explain: "You've had a fever for three days. You've been unconscious these past few days, and the doctor came every day to give you an intravenous drip."

Three days? I've been asleep for three days?

"What's today's date?" It took a great deal of effort to croak with a low and ugly voice using my throat.

"Don't speak. Your throat is injured, and the doctor said it would be better if you didn't speak for the next few days." He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled up the sheets for me. "Today is December 29th."

His proximity scared me, and I s.h.i.+fted my body with great difficulty, trying to move to the other side of the bed. However, my movements caused him to stop me. Using a force that wouldn't hurt me, his large hands gripped my shoulders. It was only when he grabbed me that I realized that I was completely naked.

"Don't move. The doctor said that it looks like you have soft tissue contusion [1], so it's best if you don't move."

I lowered my gaze, scared and nervous. Under the blanket, my hands tightened into fists.

"Don't be afraid of me, baby." His slightly hurt voice sounded beside my ears.

The pain and regret in his voice made me unable to resist lifting my head to look at him. It was only then that I noticed that he looked rather miserable and exhausted. His deep, jet-black eyes were bloodshot, and his neat hair was now in a dishevelled state. The b.u.t.tons on his white s.h.i.+rt were in complete disarray, and the front was stained with several black and yellow splotches. From his sorry state, I could not help but a.s.sume that he had been at my bedside taking care of me for the past three days.

Although I was slightly touched by this presumed behavior, I was still absolutely terrified of him. I had already received more than I could possibly want of his capricious nature and treacherous smiles. I was afraid that his present tenderness was secretly hiding double the cruelty behind it.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just so angry… angry that you were going to run away from us by killing yourself." There was deep remorse in his eyes. "You have no idea how long we've thirsted for you, and how deeply we've been in love with you. We love you so much that we're even okay with sharing you. Why can't you love us? If you're willing to love us, we're willing to do anything."

The profound pain and deep emotions in his words made my heart ache. I forgot about all the cruel things that he did to me, and I expended a great deal of effort to lift my arms as I endured the pain. I embraced the part of his head that was buried against the side of my face, and I rubbed my cheek lightly against his. Even though there was no way I could accept his feelings, I still did not want to hurt him.

I felt something warm trickle down the side of my cheek. He was crying?! Someone as resilient and quiet as him was actually crying?!

A bitter feeling bubbled up from my heart. It seemed like we were all injured in that violent storm of lovemaking.

While he was buried against the side of my face with tears quietly trickling down, I also quietly hugged him. We silently embraced each other for comfort, as if we were wailing about the injuries we received in our souls and sentiments.

I had no idea how much time pa.s.sed, but he eventually lifted his head slightly and quietly pulled away from the arms that were wrapped around him, and put them under the blanket. He left my bed and stood up. On his face and eyes, one could still see the marks where tears had flowed.

"You should take your medicine now." After looking at the clock that hung beside the bed, he walked towards the small table next to the bed. On it, several opened packets of medicine were scattered about. He picked up one of the packets, took out several red pill capsules, and poured a gla.s.s of hot water. Then he returned to my bedside.

Just from looking at the medicine in his hand, I felt my throat hurt even more. I very rarely got sick, so I hated taking medicine.

No — I don't want it —

I looked at those bright colored pills with revulsion and firmly expressed my refusal.

"It's not bitter. Besides, I soaked it with honey." He seemed to find my childish resistance extremely amusing, and his eyes were filled with laughter.

I don't wanna — definitely not going to take it —

I continued to refuse.

"Sweetheart, if you continue to resist, I'll have to feed it to you."

My response was to close my eyes tightly, and I ignored him.

He walked to my side and placed the cup of water beside my pillow. Then, he sat down on my bed, and gently propped up my upper body letting my back rest against his chest. Even though his movements were extremely gentle, it still made me experience a lot of pain, and I quietly groaned. He abruptly stopped moving, and a few short moments after pausing, he continued to lift my body with even more care than before. The expression on his face was so focused and  tense. His actions were so careful and delicate that it made me feel like I was a fragile gla.s.s doll.

My heart was deeply moved by his actions. However, I still did not forget how much I hated pills, and my lips remained strongly shut. I was curious how he was going to force me to swallow those horrible pills without hurting me.

After I was steadily leaning against his chest, his st.u.r.dy hands ambushed my face, and he nimbly squeezed my jaw. Even though this action didn't hurt me, it still forced my mouth to open against my will.

He placed a single pill in my mouth, and quickly picked up the cup and inhaled a mouthful of water. Then he lowered his head to my lips, and delivered the the honey water in his mouth directly to mine. His tongue valiantly made its way into my mouth, and it curled over the pill that was inside. He then sent it directly into my throat, allowing it to catch the stream of liquid into my body.

After repeating this three times, three whole capsules made their way into my stomach.

My face blushed.

This b.a.s.t.a.r.d, where did he learn a move like this?

"It took several failed attempts to come up with an effective method like this." He once again saw through my thoughts and clarified this with a smile.

Failed attempts?

I followed his gaze, and I saw the stains on his white s.h.i.+rt. Hm, so it turns out he got those from when he was trying to feed me medicine.

Translator's Notes:

Soft tissue contusion — bruising [back]