Zhuo Yue woke up at three in the morning.
The first thing that met his eyes was the hospital's whiteness: white walls, white bedsheets, white medical equipment, white lights.
When his gaze fell on the person sleeping beside him, he was momentarily stunned.
Surprised as he looked at her peacefully sleeping face, he thought perhaps he was seeing things, mistaken.
Upon closer inspection, realizing it was indeed her, he was delighted like a satisfied child, and even managed a weak smile.
She was actually by his side, choosing to stay and accompany him.
Does this mean she still cares for him, that she still has him in her heart, right?
He weakly sat up, got out of bed, grabbing the clothes and jacket next to him, intending to drape them over her thin little frame.
Even though it was just a few steps and a few light movements, he was utterly exhausted, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Even his breathing became very heavy.
