NovelBookChapter 1164: "I'll stitch it up now," the doctor said.
Nate nodded, his expression uninterested.
Then Corrine watched as the private doctor began to stitch Nate up, using just a needle and thread, without any anesthetics.
"Wait!" Corrine, who had just had her forehead treated, was shocked. She hurried over. "Why aren't you using an anesthetic? How can anyone stand such raw stitching?" The doctor glanced between Nate and Corrine, looking unsure.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAfter a moment, he carefully said, "Miss Holland, you may not know this, but Mr. Hopkins refuses anesthetics, no matter how bad the injury." Corrine frowned slightly. Never using anesthetics...
He must have either been allergic or concerned about giving his enemies an opening to strike.
"Use it. I'll stay with him," Corrine said firmly.
The doctor didn't speak, looking at Nate's face for any sign of resistance.
When he saw none, he began to administer a small dose of anesthetic.
The whole process, from stitching to bandaging, took just thirty minutes.
Corrine held Nate's hand. "If you're tired, you should rest for a bit.” "Together," Nate replied, tightening his grip on her wrist and pulling her onto the bed.
Corrine gasped in surprise.
After a dizzying whirl, she found herself wrapped securely in Nate's arms. Concerned about pressing against his wound, she remained perfectly still, obediently nestled in his embrace. "Go to sleep," Nate whispered gently.
As she gazed up at him, Nate's proximity stirred memories.
Read more at gvlnovom His earlier words, "Don't worry, I'm here," resonated deeply, reminding Corrine of the man she had encountered years ago in Forestvale.
His eyes held a familiarity from the moment they first met, yet she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen them before.
It was only in the darkness of the tunnel that his gaze sparked her memory.
Could he be the man from years ago? Was Nate the protector who had stood by her throughout that perilous night in Forestvale?
Though Corrine had planned to prepare sfood onee Nate fem asleep, the warmth of his arms lulled her to sleep. It was a restless slumber, though.
In her dreams, she revisited that tumultuous night filled with endless gunfire and chaos. Bodies werem strewn across the streets, and blood mixed with rain flowed in crimson rivulets. The acrid metallic scent of blood merged with the dampness of the rain, overwhelming her senses.
Drug addicts, wild-eyed and desperate, lurked in the darkness like rats, their gazes filled with cravings and greed.
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