Chapter 81: It Makes My Heart Flutter

A loud noise erupted, accompanied by flames, thick smoke, and debris flying through the air. Maggie felt numb, as if torn apart. Joseph, that despicable man! He'd rigged the timer; the numbers were false from the start. He detonated it prematurely, with thirty seconds remaining. From the beginning, he intended to kill her and Nathael!

Maggie watched helplessly as the man she’d pushed away was blown apart. His arm was torn off, covered in blood. An indescribable sense of powerlessness pierced her heart.

She woke from the nightmare, her face pale, beads of sweat on her forehead. Perhaps her cry had reached the adjacent room. Before she could gather her thoughts, a faint knock came: "Maggie?"

Snapping out of her chaotic memories, Maggie stared blankly at the door, unable to distinguish past from present. She worried she’d disturbed him.

Nathael gently opened the door. She was still in bed, in her oversized pajamas, the room dim. Her face was pale; she seemed lost in thought. A glint appeared in her eyes as she softly uttered, "Mr. Harris." Her throat tightened; her voice was hoarse.

Nathael poured her a glass of warm water. "Were you dreaming?"

Maggie remained silent, rising to kneel at the bed’s edge. She embraced his waist, burying her face against him, her eyes moist. Nathael paused, gently stroking her hair. "It's okay," he said.

"Hmm," Maggie murmured, her voice muffled. With moist eyes, she tightened her grip, feeling his warmth. He was unharmed, alive. It wasn't a dream; that was comforting.

"I dislike rainy days," she said softly, sounding aggrieved. Ironically, she used to adore them—just not venturing out in the rain. She enjoyed a cup of…

If one traces her aversion to rainy days, it likely started with Sierra disfiguring her face. The day Sierra blinded her and scarred her face, it was pouring rain. The torrential downpour seemed to wash away the malevolence, drowning out her screams. Subsequently, as her wounds healed, the scars would itch and ache uncontrollably on rainy days, tempting her to scratch and reminding her of her ordeal. It was like an oppressive nightmare.

Therefore, she disliked rainy days. The noisy rain drowned out other sounds—a significant challenge for a blind person. Nathael remained silent, letting her cling to him. Yet, he sensed a profound sorrow and grief he'd never encountered before.

Maggie lifted her head, embracing his neck. "Aren't you asleep? Why did you come?" she asked gently.

"I couldn't sleep," Nathael responded gently, feeling uneasy with her gesture. "Pondering some matters."

Maggie, taller than him, stood beside the bed. Cupping his face, she playfully squeezed it. "You're truly handsome," she complimented.

Nathael removed her hand, raising an eyebrow. "How handsome?"

Maggie smiled slyly, whispering, "It makes my heart flutter."

Nathael swallowed hard. His eyes were dark and intense, his desire uncontainable. "Don't tease me," he said seriously, his voice low.

Knowing when to stop, Maggie leapt onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist like a koala.

Nathael stumbled back, instinctively catching her. "Maggie!" he managed, his hands on her thigh, her dress riding up.

Maggie's eyes sparkled; she blinked innocently. "Hug me," she said softly, her voice sweet and irresistible.

She craved his warmth, but resented her attachment. Sometimes, the more she missed him, the more hostile she became. It wasn't him; she hated that side of herself. Now, she could cling to him openly without self-loathing.

"Let go of me," Nathael said seriously. His sanity would collapse if this continued.

Maggie held on tighter. He pursed his lips, breathing heavily. She probably wasn't wearing underwear; leaning against him, she felt indescribably soft and tempting.

Maggie rested her face on his shoulder, lingering. She wasn't tired; she just spent time with him. "Don't make me repeat myself," he warned.

Maggie looked at his ears. In the faint moonlight, she noticed them turning red. Curious, she touched them, ignoring his warning.

Instantly, Nathael threw her onto the bed. Realizing the situation, Maggie quickly moved to the side. "Get off! This is my bed!"

Nathael chuckled, pulling her back. Maggie exclaimed, kicking out—accidentally kicking his face. "Ouch!"

Maggie was stunned. Time seemed to stop as Nathael felt the urge to strangle her.

(The final "Send Gifts 20" appears unrelated and should be removed.)