Love Unspoken

Alexander released his grip, and the doctor crumpled to the floor. The doctor took a moment to gather himself, inhaling deeply to steady his nerves before he began to speak. "Quinn's condition is rather precarious..."

His words hung in the air, unfinished, as Quinn began to stir on the bed. She attempted to sit up, but her strength failed her halfway, and she fell back onto the mattress. Without waiting for the doctor to continue, Alexander rushed to her side, offering his support.

"Are you awake?" he asked, gently assisting her to lean against his shoulder.

Quinn's eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of Alexander's chiseled jawline. She looked beyond him to the doctor, who was still sprawled on the floor.

Her throat was parched, probably from crying, and she gestured for a drink. Alexander caught her request and glanced at the doctor, who immediately understood and scrambled to fetch water for Quinn.

As he waited, Alexander studied Quinn's face. Her lips were pale, and her skin had an almost translucent pallor, a stark contrast to the doctor's earlier assertion that she was fine.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

The doctor returned promptly with a glass of water. Alexander accepted it and passed it to Quinn. "Drink this."

Quinn clutched the glass, drinking the water with such fervor that some of it escaped from the corners of her mouth, trickling down her neck and soaking into her collar. Alexander reached up to wipe the droplets from her chin.

Once she finished drinking, Quinn's mind cleared. She looked up at Alexander, realizing their awkwardly intimate pose. Sensing the tension, the doctor discreetly stepped back, excusing himself from the room.

Feeling the shift in atmosphere, Quinn scooted away from Alexander, her movements carrying a hint of defiance. Alexander's expression darkened as he grasped her wrist and pulled her back.

"What's your problem?" he demanded.

Matching his intense stare with a stubborn one of her own, Quinn retorted, "That's my question to you. What are you trying to do?

"You're always doing this-imprisoning me at the slightest provocation, exploding at me, and then trying to placate me afterwards. What am I to you, exactly?"

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Alexander paused, his gaze locked on Quinn, momentarily at a loss for words.

Seeing his silence, Quinn couldn't tell if she was more angry or hurt, but her eyes began to redden.

Through her teary vision, she implored him, "Tell me, what am I? Your dog?"

Her gestures, though silent, radiated anger.

As he remained silent, Quinn slid off the bed with her feeble strength and sat on the floor. Then, she shifted to a kneeling position, clutching at Alexander's pant leg, looking up at him as tears fell like pearls off a string. She pleaded desperately, "Alexander, please, I'm begging you, let me go or just put me out of my misery, will you?

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"Even a loyal dog deserves kindness after years of companionship. Can't you just show mercy and release me?"

Her tears flowed like rain, and though silent, her expression screamed of utter grief and despair.

Alexander looked down at her, watching as she cried uncontrollably, his own breathing growing ragged.

"What did you say?" His voice was hoarse, as if suppressing rage, or perhaps something else.

"You want me to let you go?" He extended his hand, his fingers grazing her throat with enough pressure to suggest a deadly intent. "Is that right?"

Quinn squeezed his fingers, looking straight into his eyes, and nodded forcefully.

In the instant she nodded, the grip on her neck tightened, pinning her against the edge of the bed.

Feeling weak, especially just after waking, her vision blacked out under his chokehold.