Chapter 117: What Do I Want? I Want You.
Chapter 117: What Do I Want? I Want You.
Florence treated Ernest’s wound carefully and she was highly tensed up during the whole process. She tried her best to be as gentle as possible so that Ernest would not feel too much pain.
She also asked from time to time, “Does it hurt?”
“Not so.”
Ernest’s tone was always flat, and his unfathomable gaze was fixed on Florence.
When Florence finally finished the treatment, her forehead had been covered with a layer of sweats as if she had experienced a marathon and had finished the full distance.
Florence took a deep breath. Right at this moment, Ernest extracted a napkin and then gently wiped away the sweats on her forehead.
He was so gentle and careful when doing that.
When she was bandaging the wound, it was also Ernest that wiped away the sweats for her.
“I can do it by myself.” Florence hastily took the napkin from Ernest and randomly wiped away the sweats. She suppressed the turmoil in her mind and looked at Ernest, “Mr. Hawkins, I should thank you for having block the oil for me.”
Otherwise, it would be her who got hurt.
Ernest looked at her meaningfully and naturally spoke, “How will you thank me?”
Florence was stunned and gazed at Ernest in disbelief. Naturally when people received the other’s gratitude, he/she would say ‘you’re welcome’. But it was the first time that Florence had been asked about the reward after expressing her gratitude.
It was really out of her expectations.
But Florence sincerely wanted to thank him, so she replied, “I will buy you some supplements next time.”
“I don’t want that.” Ernest refused without hesitation.
Florence was dumbfounded and asked unconsciously, “Then what do you want?”
“You.” Ernest stared at Florence and replied. His gaze was as unfathomable as a whirlpool and it seemed to suck her in.
Florence’s heart skipped one beat and then thumped wildly.
Her mind was in turmoil and she was so flustered that she didn’t know how to react.
Ernest watched her reaction with satisfaction and curled his thin lips into a light, charming smile.
He leaned forward to approach her and said word by word in a low and teasing voice, “You should take care of me during this period of time.”
“What?”
Florence finally came back to her own senses and realized that he simply wanted her to take care of him…
Her thoughts had gone wild just now.
Her face uncontrollably turned red and flustered, she answered, “Okay.”
Ernest raised his right hand and stroked her head. His action was so intimate as if he was stoking a puppy.
“Good girl.”
Florence was stunned and felt that even her hair was burning in an instant.
She dodged him in a panic and tidied up the medical kit hurry-scurry.
She then looked up at the sky and found that it was late and she should come back.
She prepared inwardly and then spoke, “Mr. Hawkins, I…”
“I’m hungry.” Ernest interrupted Florence in a casual tone and looked into her eyes.
Florence found it hard to utter the unspoken words.
Ernest hadn’t eaten too much tonight and got his hand injured to protect her. She felt guilty when thinking about this.
Florence hesitated for a while and asked, “Do you have noodles at home? I can cook noodles for you.” [Note: The last sentence is a double entendre. It means: You can eat my pussy.]
Ernest’s gaze darkened with sexual desire brewing in them.
Was this woman aware of what she was talking about?
Having not received a response from Ernest and noticing that his expressions were weird, Florence asked, “You don’t like noodles?”
“Ahem.” Ernest coughed with uneasiness, “Go cook it.”
Florence was muddle-headed. She wondered what had happened to Ernest that he suddenly became so weird.
But she couldn’t figure it out. So she didn’t think too much about it and went to the kitchen.
Ernest also walked into the kitchen after a short while.
Florence looked at him and hastily said, “Mr. Hawkins, the kitchen is dirty. You shall go out and wait.”
But Ernest didn’t go out; instead, he looked around the kitchen and found a cute apron.
He walked to Florence and wrapped her waist from the back and put the apron on her.
Florence felt the man’s breathe from behind and it was as if he was hugging her.
Her heart immediately thumped wildly. She wanted to push him away, but when she lowered her head, she saw that his wounded hand was holding the thin ribbon of the apron. Florence didn’t dare to move as she was afraid that she would accidently touch his injured hand.
As Ernest was fixing his eyes on Florence, he saw Florence’s struggling expressions.
He slightly leaned forward and his lips were so close to Florence’s ear.
He said in a charming and ambiguous voice, “Florence, you care about me more than what you’ve told me.”
Florence felt her ear burning hot.
Flustered, she stammered, “It… It’s just because you got injured because of me and it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”
“Yeah, it’s your responsibility.”
Ernest repeated Florence’s words meaningfully and there was an inexplicable teasing tone in his voice.
Florence’s mind was in turmoil.
She didn’t dare to continue to discuss this dangerous topic with Ernest and urged, “Mr. Hawkins, please go out. It’s narrow and it’s inconvenient for me to mix up the seasonings.” Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.
Ernest then let go of her in a good mood. He walked towards the door of the kitchen, leaned against the wall elegantly and fixed his eyes on Florence.
She was wearing an apron and was cooking in his kitchen, infusing some vitality and the sense of home to his kitchen that had never been used.
He was resolute to marry her.
Although there was a distance between them, Florence could still feel Ernest’s passionate lines of sights clearly. They were like laser lights and landed on her body.
She felt very unease and flustered. As a result, she added seasonings again and again.
She felt like she had just experienced a world war. In turmoil, she finally cooked two bowls of noodles and served them on the table.
There were some vegetables on the noodles and they looked quite pleasant.
Florence looked at Ernest with anticipation, “Mr. Hawkins, have a try.”
Ernest picked up his chopsticks and tried the noodles elegantly and nobly.
Then he looked up at Florence. When seeing the anticipation in her eyes, his expressions became inexplicably complicated.
Florence was a bit flustered, “How’s it? Does it good?”
“Try it by yourself.”
So, was it good or bad?
Florence was a bit unsure. She then picked up her chopsticks to taste the noodles. At the next moment, she hastily found the trash can and vomited them out.
That tasted extremely bad.
It was salty and greasy. Did she put all the seasonings in the noodles when cooking it?
Ernest curled his lips into a light smile and handed a glass of water to her, “Rinse your mouth.”
Florence subconsciously reached out to the close. But she felt it weird when hearing Ernest’s words.
She cooked the noodles and now she needed to rinse her mouth after eating it. What a shame.
“Hmm… I will cook it again.”
But when she was about to take the bowls, she felt it inappropriate again. What the noodles she cooked again still tasted bad? She seldom cooked after all.