NovelEnglishThalassa quickly stepped back, evading Lysander's reach, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Lysander, what are you doing?" Her gaze flitted around, unable to meet Lysander's eyes directly.
Even though she had just confessed her feelings to Lysander that day, it had been a while since they last saw each other. There was a certain unfamiliarity between them, making his sudden intimate gesture somewhat uncomfortable for Thalassa.
Lysander opened and closed his hand, as if trying to hold onto the warmth from Thalassa's waist, the softness of her touch lingering in his palm.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHe silently retracted his hand, his eyes locked on Thalassa, "I was just helping you up; no need to bend over." He explained why he had tried to wrap his arms around her waist.
Thalassa understood his intention and blinked, asking, "Aren't you going to rest?" "I can manage on my own." With that, Lysander propped himself up with his hands on the bed, pushing himself up to sit on it.
Thalassa was taken aback. Then, she watched as Lysander maneuvered his legs onto the bed. He settled back against the headboard, pulled the covers over himself, and glanced at her, "Con, get srest too." "I..." Thalassa hesitated.
"What, was everything you said at the wedding just a lie?" Lysander interrupted before she could finish, his voice tinged with skepticism.
His intense gaze unnerved Thalassa, and she quickly replied, "Of course not, I wasn't lying." "Then chere." It was a simple command from Lysander, as imperious and stoic as he'd always been.
After a moment's pause, Thalassa slipped off her shoes and climbed onto the bed. Because Lysander was sitting at the edge, she had to move towards the inside. She was extremely cautious, afraid of accidentally touching him.
But the more careful she was, the more prone to mistakes she became. As she attempted to scoot further in, her hand slipped, and her leg landed heavily on Lysander's, not only pressing down on him but also causing a sharp pain.
"Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to. Did that hurt? Letrub it for you," Thalassa apologized frantically, moving to the other side of the bed. She lifted the covers and began massaging Lysander's leg, asking, "Did I press down here?" Lysander watched her, his face expressionless, and remained silent regardless of how she pressed.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThinking she hadn't found the right spot, Thalassa continued to search, "Is it here?" She looked up for confirmation.
"Stop wasting your effort," Lysander suddenly said.
Thalassa's hands froze before slowly lifting her head to meet his gaze, but Lysander averted his eyes.
Even though his face was impassive and he said nothing, Thalassa m understood the emotion behind his words and what he meant by telling her not to waste her effort. Remembering Lydia's words,
Thalassa felt a sudden pang of discomfort but didn't remove her om hands. Instead, she kept massaging NO his leg, smiling, "How can this be a waste of effort? The doctor said rehabilitation is crucial for recovery."
As Thalassa was getting into her stride, Lysander suddenly gripped her wrist, pulling her towards him. His! face, stoic and solemn, was now En inches from hers, his breath warm on her skin as he said, "These legs will never recover. Do you regret what you said at the wedding now?" The pressure on Thalassa's wrist was intense, causing her pain. She winced and looked into his eyes, which were filled with a deep, anxious turmoil.
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