Chapter 446
Chapter 446:
Turning swiftly, she saw Cristian standing in the doorway.
He wore a crumpled shirt with the top buttons undone, exposing glimpses of his well-defined abs.
As he leaned against the doorframe, his bangs fell across his face, partly obscuring his striking features.
His eyes, usually lively and filled with a sharp gleam, seemed dull, as if someone had stolen the light from them. They gazed at her through the strands of hair, heavy with exhaustion.
After a moment, he parted his dry lips and asked, “Why are you here?” His voice came out hoarse, surprising them both.
Fernanda stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she noticed his pale face and the defeated expression that clung to him like a shadow.
His bloodshot eyes made him look almost fierce, but the stubble dotting his jawline softened the impression, lending him a rugged, disheveled appeal.
Without thinking, she raised a hand to his forehead. As soon as her palm touched his skin, the searing heat confirmed her suspicions. “How did you let it get this bad?” Her voice rose sharply. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital? You’ve got a fever! Let’s go right now.”
“No need,” he murmured weakly, the words almost lost in the air between them.
Fernanda’s glare hardened. “You’re going. How are you supposed to recover if you just sit here doing nothing?”
Now that she was closer, Fernanda could read the emotions in his eyes like an open book. The sharpness and arrogance that usually defined Cristian seemed to have evaporated under the weight of his illness, leaving behind a fragile and defeated shadow.
This was a side of Cristian she had never encountered before.
Mᴏʀᴇ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇs ɪɴ ɢᴀʟɴᴏᴠᴇʟs.ᴄᴏᴍ
His Adam’s apple rose and fell as he met her fiery gaze, a faint smile curling on his lips like a whisper of defiance.
“Why waste time in hospitals?” he said, his voice carrying a raspy edge. “Home feels more… personal.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed her wrist with an urgency that left no room for argument, pulling her into the apartment.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Inside, the spacious apartment bore the stark chill of minimalism, its design so barren it felt more like a pristine exhibit than a home. The lifelessness of the place was almost suffocating.
Cristian was leaning against the wall in the foyer, swaying a little from the force of his pull.
He rubbed his temples, desperate to tame the hammering inside his skull.
.
.
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