Chapter 172 Chapter 172
His touch, his proximity, gave her the sense of safety she had been longing for after today’s hospital visit. She genuinely enjoyed it. He cupped her cheek with his hand, pecking the corner of her lips before he leaned back, tilting his head and watching her.
“Are your eyes red?” she gasped. He visibly cringed, looking down at the ground and avoiding her prying gaze. “They are.”
“No, you’re imagining it. You must be tired, it’s the middle of the night,” he insisted.
“Look at me again,” she said stubbornly. He turned his head and glanced at her. His eyes were sky-blue, no trace of red visible. “Did I really imagine that?” she breathed.
“Of course you did. Why would my eyes be red?” he grinned. “Silly.”
He watched her for a moment and decided that it was way too early for her to be awake. A glance at the clock on her nightstand revealed that it was three am. “I woke you up, and I’m sorry about that,” he said and got up from the bed. “You should sleep some more.”
“Wait.” she called after him when a thought struck her. “Where do you sleep?”
“I don’t… I mean… on the sofa?” he stuttered, biting his lip.
There was an awkward pause between them. Valerie looked at him contemplatively, hugging the blanket to her chest. She had an idea, but it was probably too much. He was practically a stranger to her right now… then again, it didn’t feel like he was a stranger. Since she had seen the memory, she was surprisingly comfortable in his presence, which was anything but normal for her. And the unexplainable connection they shared wasn’t normal either.
Her heart palpitated nervously when she finally spoke. “Do you want to stay here?” she asked shyly.
Now she had caught him off guard. His jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
He smirked and wasted no time getting on the bed. Valerie slid back under her cover and rolled on her side, watching him. He pulled the cover over himself, up to his waist, and watched her silently. She marveled at the silver-white color of his hair. It was illuminated by the moonlight falling through the window. The chain he wore reflected it and glimmered, as did his gorgeous eyes. She was attracted to him, gravitated towards him.
“Sugar, if you keep staring at me, you won’t fall asleep. I know that I’m very handsome, but still,” he teased. The husky sound of his voice sent a shudder down her spine. “Your injuries are not healed, and they’ll hurt if you don’t rest and recover.”
“Why do you care so much?” she asked in astonishment.
The smirk on his sharp lips only grew. “Because I’m your boyfriend.”
“That… is a good point,” she breathed, flustered. “Okay, I’m going to sleep now.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m almost asleep.”
“Yes.”
“Just one more minute.”
“Valerie,” he snorted.
“What?”
“If you don’t stop talking, you’ll never fall asleep,” he chuckled. His hand moved over her shoulder when he shimmied closer to hug her. Her body instinctively leaned into his touch.
“Close your eyes. We can talk more tomorrow, agreed?” he whispered.
“Agreed,” she mumbled, snuggling up to him as she dozed off.
He smiled, heaving a sigh of relief. When she had woken up in the hospital, he had been sure she would never remember, but now he was confident that she only needed a little bit of time.
“We’ll get your memories back,” he whispered and kissed her temple. “As fast as we can.”
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The next morning, Valerie couldn’t believe her eyes when she entered the kitchen. She found Maxwell preparing breakfast—an unexpected sight. The smell of fresh pancakes reached her nose and made her mouth water. She loved pancakes, and he must have known about that.
“Good morning,” he said, throwing her a look over his shoulder. He was standing in front of the stove, holding a pancake turner in his hand. “Did you sleep well, Valerie?”
“Yes, I did,” she answered, smiling at him. “Have you been up long?”
“A while,” he said. “Sit down, the food’s almost done.”
She took a seat at the table, looking at the steaming coffee cups he had already placed on it. “Are you always doing this?” she asked curiously, staring at his back. She wouldn’t have thought him to be the attentive type of boyfriend, but it seemed like she had been wrong about that. It didn’t happen often that someone made breakfast for her—actually, that never happened, so she was all the happier now.
“No, but I wanted to leave a good impression today,” he replied cheekily and smirked at her.
“Weirdo,” she said, chuckling. “You could have just said yes.”
He put the pancakes he made on two plates and carried them to the table, where he set them down. “Why would I lie to you, sugar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She felt heat shooting to her face and shyly dropped her gaze to her plate. “Don’t call me that.”
His chuckle reverberated through the kitchen. “You like it.”
“Do I?” she mumbled.
“It makes you happy. You can’t deny it,” he smirked confidently.
“How would you know?” she sulked, busying herself with eating breakfast. And damn, the pancakes were heavenly. Where had this guy learned how to cook?
“I just have a feeling,” he replied ambiguously, giving her no answers at all.
She sighed, cracking a smile. “That sounds very convincing, Maxwell.”
Instead of answering her, he grinned, showing his pearly white teeth. The blue of his eyes was dazzling when it was illuminated by the soft sun rays falling in through the window. It was a vivid color, almost too vivid to still be considered natural.
“So, about my memories,” she began, picking up her coffee cup and watching him over its rim. “I want to regain them quickly, but I don’t know how. Do you have any idea what I could do to trigger them?”
Maxwell leaned back in his seat and glanced at the ceiling while he thought. He scrunched his forehead. “That’s a good question. We should revisit a place where we’ve been before.”
Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she sat up in her chair. “I know!” she gasped. “What about the place where we first met? That surely would trigger happy memories.”
He coughed awkwardly, his face looking like he had taken a bite from a sour lemon. It wasn’t the reaction she had expected. “That’s not a good idea,” he muttered.