Chapter 99
Just applying some medicine, and the air in the room seemed to heat up.
"Be gentle..."
"Slower, don't press so hard, it hurts—"
I quickly realized what was wrong.
The ointment was cool, but my fingertips were burning hot. As I gently applied it to the nasty scar on his back, his breathless moans really made me blush.
"Oscar, can you please not make weird sounds?" I finally couldn't help but warn him.
Oscar struggled to turn his head to look at me, his eyes red with grievance: "It hurts! Can't I cry out when it hurts?"
I bit my lip, not knowing how to tell him that these kinds of sounds are usually made at... other times. Doesn't he know that?
If everyone in the house didn't know he just got out of the hospital and couldn't do anything else, who knows what they'd think?
"If you keep making those sounds, I'll call the butler to apply the medicine for you."
That worked. He quickly said: "Okay, I'll keep it down, alright?"
But he still couldn't help muttering quietly: "Your fiancée is so mean, doesn't even know how to feel sorry for her fiancé."
When others are around, he acts very serious, but only in front of me does he act like a child. I guess I can understand that in his mind, I'm different from everyone else.
I pressed down my smile, my face unconsciously softening, and lightened my touch, applying the medicine then carefully blowing on it a few times: "Does it still hurt now?"
Oscar's sounds did get much quieter, though more perfunctory: "This is better, my fiancée is amazing. Is my back really ugly now? Will seeing it traumatize you?"
I didn't answer his question, but asked him another one: "You've seen my face before too. Do you have any trauma from that now?"
Oscar shook his head: "Honestly, the first time I saw your face, I was just shocked, wondering what you'd been through, how a girl in her twenties could be tortured like that. Later, after learning what had happened and what had been investigated, I decided to get close to you. I'll be honest with you, I already regretted not competing with Michael to the end back then."
After evenly applying the ointment to all the scars on his back, I gently fanned him with my hand: "Isn't it too late now?"
Oscar's tone carried regret: "I was three years late. You had such a hard time under him at first; it wasn't easy getting to where you are now. But it's better from now on. I'll always be by your side. Even if the whole world becomes your enemy, I still won't waver in my determination to be with you."
He slowly turned his head, his moist eyes filled with sincerity. Such a promise seemed more moving than any sweet words. Finally, someone could choose me firmly, with no backup option, no abandonment. My heart gradually warmed up.
My eyelashes trembled as I slowly closed my eyes and gently kissed his burning lips.
The touch of our lips was like a weak electric current, making my whole body tremble lightly. A large hand covered the back of my head, holding me and gradually pressing harder. His tongue effortlessly pried open my lips, hooking mine to deepen the kiss. His pleasant woody scent instantly invaded my senses, making me dizzy, and I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his neck.
Oscar's pained cry abruptly interrupted our intimacy, stopping the entanglement of our lips and tongues.
Only then did I realize that I'd gotten a bit carried away with the kiss. His position was awkward, and mine wasn't much better—I might have even pressed on his wound.
"Are you okay?" I quickly went to check. His back wound hadn't reopened, which finally made me breathe a sigh of relief.
Oscar grinned at me through the pain: "It's fine, it's fine. Let me adjust my position, and we can continue?"
I quickly got up and moved away from him: "Just lie down properly. I'll go check if the soup in the kitchen is ready."
As soon as I finished speaking, I fled in panic. If anyone saw me like this, they'd probably confirm my reputation as being desperate.
"Don't go, Emily, are you really leaving?" Oscar's voice chased after me from behind.
When I came downstairs, the flush on my face hadn't completely faded. Robert saw me and smiled: "Are you two... done? The chicken soup is ready; it's been simmering on the stove. Rowan, bring over the soup we just ladled out."
Was it ready earlier?
Don't tell me they all misunderstood something?
Sure enough, Oscar's sounds were too easy to misinterpret.
I quickly put on what I thought was a natural smile: "Just now... I was applying medicine to Oscar. He couldn't help crying out in pain, so loudly."
Robert looked at me with a meaningful smile: "The fact that he can cry out in pain in front of you, honestly, I'm jealous."
What's there to be jealous about?
The key thing is his mouth can't just cry out in pain—it can also kiss, and make weird sounds.
Of course, I couldn't tell anyone that. I just lowered my head and went forward to take the chicken soup Rowan brought over.
Behind me, I vaguely heard Rowan gossiping: "Mr. Lopez, seeing how good their relationship is now, are they getting married soon?"
Robert's voice came through clearly: "I hope they get married soon, too. That way, even if I die, I should be able to rest in peace."
I didn't hear what else was said, but now I felt one thing was urgent—Oscar's suggestion to move out.
Although this might not be great for Robert, if I had to face this kind of marriage pressure every day, living far away would be the only way to fundamentally avoid such awkwardness happening again.
Right now Oscar has the will but not the ability, but once his injuries heal...
The image of his charming eyes and lean but defined abs in my mind made me blush again.
Since he's the man I love, it wouldn't be strange at all for something to happen between us.