Chapter 228 Scalded Hand
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Quinn let out a startled cry, hauled Julius toward the sink, and cranked the faucet wide open so that a cool stream rushed over the spots the boiling coffee had burned.
A broad patch of angry red spread across the back of his right hand–proof that the beverage had been far from lukewarm.
“There’s news about your brother?” Julius muttered.
Quinn blinked. “The military has a lead, yes, but right now, you should be worrying about your hand! Next time, hold your cup steady. With a burn like this, you’ll probably blister.”
Head lowered, Julius asked, “What kind of lead? Are they close to finding him?”
“The military recovered one of the drones Rowan flew five years ago,” Quinn explained. “A team is bringing it in, and if the onboard memory still holds anything useful… well, I have a feeling it won’t be long before I see my brother again!”
Julius‘ complexion turned a shade paler, and the hand Quinn kept beneath the cold water trembled faintly.
“Does it hurt a lot?” she asked.
“If I said it hurt, would your heart ache for me?” he countered.
Quinn raised her eyes to him. “You’re my boyfriend. Of course I ache when you’re in pain. But I don’t want you thinking that just because I care, it’s all right to get hurt. I need you to take good care of yourself.”
His shoulders went rigid as their gazes
locked.
No one had ever told him they hoped he would look after himself.
His parents had never bothered; his grandfather, for all his affection, wanted him only to grow powerful enough to lead the Whitethorn family one day.
Even his most loyal subordinates treated him with reverent distance more than concern.
Furthermore, he had never cared. No matter how grave the injury, he had always shrugged it off- sometimes even thinking death might be a release.
But now, because of her, everything seemed to have changed.
When the water had run cold for long enough, Quinn blotted his hand dry with tissues and asked, “Where’s the first aid kit?”
“There isn’t one,” he said.
“No first aid kit?” She sounded genuinely surprised.
“I don’t live here often.” The apartment had always been a place to crash when he didn’t feel like returning to the Whitethorn residence./
Only then did Quinn understand why the rooms were so sparsely furnished, why there were hardly any
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Chapter 228 Scalded Hand
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Thankfully, modern delivery services were efficient. She ordered burn ointment through an online service and asked, “What do you feel like cating tonight?”
“Anything is fine. What do you want?” he asked in return.
“If you’re fine with anything, let’s have pasta. I can cook two plates for dinner,” Quinn suggested.
“You’re cooking pasta?” Julius eyed her doubtfully.
“What’s this? You don’t trust my skills?” Smiling, she added vegetables, beef, and pasta to the same order. “I used to make pasta for my colleagues on base. They loved it.”
“Did Harlan eat that too?” he asked out of nowhere.
She paused, then laughed. “Are you that concerned about Harlan?”
He pressed his thin lips together. “He’s been through many things with you than I have.”.
“He’s my comrade and a brother. I knew him long before I met you,” Quinn replied.
A shadow flickered through Julius‘ eyes. Why didn’t I meet her sooner?
If only I had met her earlier…
“But you’re my boyfriend,” Quinn went on, “and we’ll share far more days and far more stories together.” Her gentle voice drifted over him like a warm breeze, sweeping away the unease that had begun to rise.
Before long, the delivery arrived. Quinn carefully applied ointment over his burn, then carried the groceries to the kitchen.
Julius rose to follow, but she said, “Your hand’s hurt. Sit in the living room and rest.”
“But I want to be in the kitchen with you. I’ll stay quiet and just watch. I won’t get in your way,” he insisted.
“All right, then.” Quinn suddenly realized he was even more clingy than she had imagined.
Once inside the kitchen, she washed vegetables, sliced meat, and busied herself with the prep while Julius leaned against the wall, silently watching her every move.
He had never thought there was anything appealing about someone working in a kitchen.
Yet, now he found he couldn’t pull his gaze from her.
The apartment that had always felt icy cold seemed to warm simply because she was there.
If they married one day, would their home feel this cozy too?
She wouldn’t need to do these chores; he could make her soup every day. Whatever she liked to eat, he would learn to cook for her.
