Chapter 291 Your Kisses
He leaned against the entrance wall, and when the light flicked on, Meryl noticed that his forehead was drenched in cold sweat. Chandler’s face was ashen, his once rosy lips now colorless, as if he had lost a lot of blood. Meryl rushed over to him, gripping his arm tightly. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Chandler was wearing a black suit, and when Meryl touched him, she realized her hand was damp. Looking at her palm, she was horrified to see it covered in blood. Chandler’s suit was soaked through with it. Panic set in. “Where are you hurt? Let me see!”
As she spoke, she began trying to remove his clothes. Chandler, looking at her frantic, worried face, suddenly grabbed the back of her head and pressed her against the entrance wall, kissing her fiercely. No one had ever cared about his well–being like Meryl did. Over the years, he had become accustomed to dangerous, blood–stained days and frequent injuries. But to have someone actually worry about him – it was a new feeling, and it made his heart soften.
He closed his eyes, lost in the kiss, wishing he could merge with her. Meryl, however, turned her head away, her eyes flashing with irritation. “Chandler, what are you doing?” She couldn’t believe he had the presence of mind to kiss her at a time like this. She pushed him away, hands on his chest. “Do you realize you’re hurt?” “Yes, but it’s not my mouth that’s hurt, and it doesn’t stop me from kissing you.” Meryl was speechless, thinking, “How can he remain so nonchalant despite being covered in blood?” “It’s not fatal. You’re overreacting,” Chandler said with a faint smile. He pulled Meryl into his embrace, resting his chin on her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair. He leaned heavily against her. It was unsure if he was too injured to stand properly. “Mrs. Aniston, you know, when I was in the police academy, getting hurt like this was just part of the job. I’m used to it. It’s nothing." “Don’t cry. It’ll only hurt for a couple of days at most. Honestly, it’s not that painful; I have a high tolerance.” As Chandler spoke, he wiped the tears from Meryl’s face with his kisses. “If you’re really worried, just kiss me more. There’s nothing better for the pain than your kisses.”
Meryl was deeply shocked. She thought, “What kind of life did Chandler have before? He’s seriously injured and still says it’s nothing? I feel pain just looking at him – how can he not be in agony?” The strong smell of blood hit her, and she said with unusual firmness, “Stop kissing me, Chandler. I’m taking you to the hospital. Once you’re healed, you can kiss me all you want.” “It’s just a minor injury. There’s no need to go to the hospital. Mrs. Aniston, please just bandage me up, alright?”