Dylan's arms tightened around Ember, his voice low and laced with tension. "You're the one who doesn't tell me anything. Who is Zayne?"
Ember froze, her breath hitching. Her eyes widened in surprise. "How... how do you know about him?"
"I heard you talking to Adrien." Dylan's voice was raw with emotion, his grip around her waist unintentionally growing too firm. His nails dug into her skin, sharp enough to break through, and a sting of pain shot through her side. Ember felt the warm trickle of blood against her skin, but she ignored it.
"You were talking about him like you liked him," Dylan continued, his tone dark with jealousy.
Instead of reacting with frustration, Ember chuckled softly, despite the discomfort. "Are you jealous again?" she teased, tilting her head slightly.
"Yeah, I am," Dylan admitted without hesitation, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "You were saying how handsome he is."
Ember let out a gentle laugh, though her heart ached seeing him like this—so consumed by doubt and insecurity. She stroked his hair, trying to soothe him. "Did you not hear the rest of what I said?"
Dylan pulled back slightly, his eyes still clouded with jealousy. "What else did I need to hear?"
Ember smiled, her voice soft and reassuring. "Well, let me repeat it for you. I said Zayne is handsome, sure. But I also said that my boyfriend is way more handsome and that I love him even more."
For a moment, Dylan just stared at her, as if letting her words sink in. Then, without warning, he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. It was sweet yet filled with unspoken passion, his lips moving against hers with a desperate tenderness. Their breaths mingled, and for a fleeting moment, the rest of the world disappeared.
When they finally pulled apart, Ember gazed up at him with a playful smile. "Next time, if you're curious about something, just ask me, okay? Don't let your jealousy drive you crazy."
Dylan exhaled a small laugh, pressing his forehead against hers. "I'll try."
A quiet chuckle escaped both of them, the warmth of the moment settling between them.
Just then, a knock at the door shattered the intimacy, followed by Adrien's amused voice. "Am I interrupting something? Or should I come back later?"
Dylan groaned, rolling his eyes as he sat up. "You really have the worst timing."
Adrien stepped into the room, taking in the chaotic scene with a smirk. "What a mess. Do you two ever do anything quietly?"
Ember, too flustered to respond, buried her face in the blanket, hoping to disappear.
Ignoring her reaction, Dylan scooped her up effortlessly and carried her back to her room. Adrien followed, plopping down beside her on the bed. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked.
Ember shook her head, avoiding his gaze.
Adrien shot Dylan a pointed look, disapproval written all over his face. "This is how you're taking care of her? Maybe I should take her with me instead."
Before Ember could defend Dylan, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. The room went silent for a beat before Adrien and Dylan burst into laughter.
Mortified, Ember yanked the blanket over her head, her face burning with embarrassment. Why now?! she thought miserably as their laughter continued to echo around her," don 't laugh ,it just that the hospital food is not that good , so I don't eat it .
Dylan excused himself to get something for Ember to eat. Meanwhile, Adrien approached her with a gentle smile, his eyes full of concern. "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?"
He knelt beside her, carefully examining her foot. His expression darkened slightly when he noticed fresh blood seeping through the bandage. Not wanting to alarm her, he kept his voice calm. "Let's get you something to eat first, and afterward, I'll change your bandage."
Ember frowned, worry flickering in her eyes. "Do we really need to change it again? You already did at the hospital."
Adrien met her gaze with reassurance. "It's gotten dirty faster than expected. I need to keep it clean so it doesn't get infected."
At that moment, Dylan returned, carrying a tray of food. "Here, Ember. You need to eat something." His voice was gentle as he placed the tray in front of her.
Ember reached for the spoon but paused when her eyes fell on Dylan's hand. Dried blood crusted over his knuckles, evidence of an injury he hadn't even mentioned.
Her heart clenched as she grabbed his hand, her voice filled with concern. "Dylan, you hurt yourself… How can you be so careless?" She turned to Adrien, her expression pleading. "Adrien, can you bandage his hand too?"
Dylan tried to pull away, but Ember tightened her grip, her worry evident.
Seeing the stubbornness in her eyes, Adrien sighed. "Fine. But eat first."
Ember nodded and began eating while Adrien stood up. But before leaving, he grabbed Dylan's arm and pulled him outside into the corridor, his usual patience thinning.
His voice was low but sharp. "What are you doing?"
Dylan frowned, confused. "What are you talking about? What's wrong?"
Adrien's calm façade finally cracked. "Did you not notice the blood on her bandage? It's irresponsible, Dylan! Do you want me to redo her stitches every day? Do you have any idea how much pain she's already in?"
Dylan stiffened, guilt washing over him. He had been so caught up in his own emotions that he hadn't even noticed.
Dylan's face fell, Adrien's words striking him like a stone. His expression turned utterly broken, regret pooling in his glistening eyes. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, suffocating.
Adrien sighed in frustration, shaking his head before leaving Dylan alone in the corridor. He returned to Ember's side, determined to tend to her properly.
Inside, Ember had nearly finished her food when Adrien spoke. "You'll need an injection. Since you're already taking medication at home, we need to be cautious not to overdo it."
The word injection made Ember freeze, her breath hitching. Panic flickered in her eyes as she glanced nervously around the room—until they landed on Dylan, who had just stepped back inside.
Sensing her distress, Adrien called out. "Sit with her."
Dylan immediately moved to Ember's side, and without hesitation, she reached for his hand, gripping it tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her fear was palpable. Dylan squeezed her hand in silent reassurance, his touch gentle despite the turmoil within him.
Adrien worked quickly, injecting the anesthetic with practiced precision. As the medication took effect, Ember's grip on Dylan's hand slowly loosened until her fingers slipped from his grasp. Her body went limp.
Dylan carefully laid her back against the pillows, his heart pounding. Watching her like this—so vulnerable, so fragile—sent a sharp ache through his chest.
Adrien's expression darkened as he examined her wound. "The stitches have loosened," he muttered, his voice edged with concern. Without wasting time, he retrieved his medical instruments from his car and began restitching the wound with delicate precision.
Dylan remained beside Ember, his eyes never leaving her unconscious face. Every soft breath she took felt like a lifeline, tethering him to reality. But then—his gaze drifted lower.
His heart stopped.
A faint bloodstain had seeped through her white dress, just above her waist. A sickening sense of dread coiled in his stomach. Frowning, he hesitated before carefully lifting the edge of her top.
And then he saw it.
A fresh wound. Small but unmistakable.
Dylan's breath caught in his throat as realization crashed over him like a violent wave. His nails. He had done this to her.
His chest tightened, and his vision blurred with unshed tears. The overwhelming guilt twisted inside him, leaving him breathless. His jealousy—his inability to control himself—had caused him to hurt the one person he loved more than anything.
What had he done?
He turned his face away, unable to look at Ember any longer. Shame burned through him like fire, suffocating his thoughts.
Adrien, who had just finished dressing Ember's foot wound, glanced up and noticed Dylan's trembling form. His brows furrowed. "Dylan, what's wrong?" he asked sharply. But Dylan didn't answer—his gaze was locked onto Ember's waist, his expression a storm of emotions.
Following Dylan's line of sight, Adrien's eyes landed on the fresh wound. Realization dawned on him, and his jaw tightened.
"Snap out of it, Dylan," Adrien ordered, his voice firm but calm. "I need your help to stop the bleeding."
Dylan blinked back to reality, roughly wiping his tears away. He leaned over, lifting Ember carefully into his arms while Adrien wrapped the bandage securely around her waist. His hands shook as he held her, his heart clenching at how fragile she felt in his grasp.
"She'll wake up in about an hour," Adrien said quietly, giving Dylan one last look before stepping out of the room.
Dylan barely registered Adrien leaving. His eyes remained on Ember's sleeping face, his heart sinking under the weight of his remorse. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering as if afraid to touch her—afraid that his touch would only bring her more pain.
With a heavy sigh, he stood up, intending to leave. But the moment he took a step, his movements halted.
There—on the floor—was a trail of small bloodstains. They led from Ember's room to his.
The realization struck him like lightning. Ember had struggled to reach him, her injured foot making it nearly impossible.
His stomach twisted, nausea rising in his throat. She came looking for me… even in pain, she still came.
A suffocating wave of guilt crashed over him, drowning him in self-loathing. He turned and walked toward his own room, his steps sluggish, his body weighed down by regret. But as he reached the doorway, he froze.
The mess before him—the overturned furniture, the shattered glass, the destruction born from his rage—stared back at him, an ugly reflection of his inner turmoil.
He took a step back, fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"I promised… I promised I wouldn't hurt her."
The whispered confession cracked under the weight of his pain. His gaze shifted to the mirror across the room, and what he saw made his breath hitch.
His own reflection.
But he didn't recognize the man staring back at him.
His eyes—red-rimmed and hollow. His expression—twisted with anguish. His soul—fractured beyond repair.
Disgust churned in his chest. Without thinking, without hesitation, Dylan threw a punch at the mirror with all his strength.
The glass shattered instantly, shards embedding into his skin, but he barely flinched. Blood dripped from his knuckles, trailing down his wrist, staining the floor.
Still, the pain was nothing compared to what Ember had endured.
His shoulders heaved as he fought for control, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But the dam had already broken.
Finally, exhaustion overtook him. His body felt heavy, his mind even more so. He staggered toward his bed and sank onto the mattress, his bloodied hand hanging limply by his side.
Tears slipped past his closed eyes. He tried to hold them back, but the overwhelming guilt, the regret, the love he felt for Ember made it impossible.
And there, surrounded by silence and the wreckage of his own emotions, Dylan drifted into a restless sleep—haunted by the thought of the damage his jealousy had caused.