When she got home from the hospital, Clara took a shower and finally felt that the smell of disinfectant in the hospital was washed away.
Lying in bed, she immediately felt terribly sleepy.
She didn't like the hospital, so she couldn't sleep well in the hospital these nights. Now she's finally back.
She rolled over casually. Without even noticing, she was already lying on the right half of the bed that belonged to Horace.
Sinking her head into the soft pillow, Clara suddenly smelled Horace's fragrance.
It was his usual shampoo, mixed with the smell of a cigar. Clara felt relieved for no reason.
She was suddenly a little greedy and didn't want to go back to her place. She leaned on Horace's pillow and fell asleep.
In the evening, Horace went back to the room and saw Clara, curling up like a kitten on the bed.
He was stunned at first. But he gently smiled immediately.
After closing the door, he silently got up from his wheelchair and walked to the bed.
Clara was sound asleep, not even noticing his approach.
Horace originally wanted to help her cover the quilt. But when he pulled up the quilt, he fixed his eyes on the wound on her arm. She couldn't help frowning.
When Clara took a bath just now, although she avoided the wound on her hand, there's still water splashed on it. Now the bandage was still a little wet. Because she has been sleeping, she also forgot to change the bandage.
Horace frowned with dissatisfaction.
As an adult, she couldn't or wouldn't even take good care of herself?
Horace originally wanted to wake up Clara and ask her to change her bandage herself. But seeing she was sleeping so soundly, even drooling on his pillow, he suddenly couldn't let her do this alone.
With a sigh, he just picked up the medicine that Clara brought back from the hospital on the table next to him. He then put it on the bed, and carefully unwrapped Clara's bandages.
Clara was in her sleep and vaguely felt that someone was moving the bandage on her arm. She didn't care about it at first, but there was a sudden pain in the wound. She woke up then, "Ouch!"
When she opened her eyes, she saw Horace sitting beside her bed with a cotton swab in her hand. And the bandage on her arm has been taken off, revealing the wound.
"Horace?" She was taken aback, "You are back?"
"Yeah." Horace didn't look at Clara, but simply put a cotton swab over her wound.
At that moment, Clara winced in pain and huddled up involuntarily, "Ouch... Please… slow down."
Horace raised her eyebrows, "It wasn't because of me. It all because you don't remember to change the bandage and apply the medicine on time. The wound is now a little festering, I have to clean up the dirty things before applying the medicine."
Clara then remembered that when she left the hospital, the doctor did instruct her to apply the medicine twice a day. But she was so sleepy and fell asleep. She didn't apply it during the day.
"I forgot..." she whispered.
Horace gave her a dissatisfied look. As if punishing her, he increased the strength of his hand, "Would it be safer for you to be hospitalized since you can even forget such important requirement?"
"Take a look at the wound?" Clara was stunned for a moment. The wound was in such a sensitive place. How could she see that? She hurriedly said, "No, no… Argh!"
She was in half way of saying her word, when she suddenly felt a sharp pain come from the wound. And she suddenly screamed out before she could finish her sentence.
"The wound is finally cleaned up." Compared to Clara's pale face with pain, Horace's expression was still clam. He then threw the cotton swab into the napkin.
Clara froze for a moment. She then understood when she saw a large piece of blood scab with pus on the cotton swab.
Looking at the wound, his childhood… All the word Horace told her just now was just to distract her, because he needed to clean up a big blood stain on her.
"Apply some more medicine and it'll be fine." Seeing Clara's pale face, Horace's tone couldn't help becoming gentler. He then took a new cotton swab and wiped it for her, "Please, this may hurt."
"Well, I know… But… Ah... Take it slowly... Um... Not here… Be Gentle..."
In the room, Clara was enduring the pain of Horace applying the medicine to her. None of them was aware that Martha outside the door was blushing when she heard it.
Martha was coming up to ask Clara and Horace to go downstairs and have dinner. But she didn't expect that she would hear Clara groaning when she got to the door. And the words Clara was shouting…
Poor Martha, you can't blame her for misunderstanding what the two were doing.
But she was even happier. She didn't care about asking Clara to have dinner. She just went downstairs excitedly.
"Old woman, what about the young master and young lady?" When Donald downstairs saw Martha coming down alone, he couldn't help frowning, "Hurry up and eat, the food is getting cold."
"Forget the dinner." Martha came over, blushing, "They're busy in the room. Don't disturb them."
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