Revenge Or Love ✔

Chapter 24 Arthur

Arthur POV.

Her consciousness is not very clear either.

I wake up in the morning and change her clothes.

Clara also wakes up. Her bangs have grown longer, covering her eyes, leaving only lifeless pupils exposed.

I open the wardrobe and take out a pink sweater, asking her, "Do you think it looks good?"

She widens her eyes, looking at my mouth, staying silent.

I can't help but frown, "Answer me."

She notices my expression, swallows, and says, "I owe you."

I say, "Not that!"

So she stammers again, "I... deserve it..."

I fall silent. I look at Clara sitting on the bed, nervously staring at herself, feeling a sudden pang in my heart.

She looks like she hasn't slept all night, with dark circles under her eyes.

So I decide to be forgiving and stop pressing her. I reach out and cover Clara's eyes, "Do you want to sleep a little more?"

But she dodges backward, repeating softly, "I... owe you, I deserve it..."

"Shut up!" I growl softly, staring at Clara for a moment, then take a deep breath and call Emma.

When Emma first met Clara at the hospital, they could still communicate. But today, after Emma comes home, Clara sits on the couch, either silent or repeating those two sentences over and over.

"I must prescribe Olanzapine and Sulpiride for her," Emma sighs, "Antidepressants have side effects and dependencies, but if we don't intervene with medication now, she might be doomed."

"No," I say.

Clara still sits on the couch, staring blankly ahead, but I can't accept the fact that she's considered mentally ill.

"She's already in a state of depressive stupor! After her condition worsens, she won't even have the instinct to eat or sleep, or even swallow saliva! What will you do then? Throw her out?!" Emma gets up and slams the table.

I fall silent.

It's James who came with Emma, pulling her sleeve to signal her to calm down, then turning to me, "Arthur, people activate psychological defense mechanisms when in pain. Clara's psyche is severely wounded, yet she failed to commit suicide, so now she's automatically shutting off her perception of the outside world."

I take a deep breath, "Can she still hear us talking?"

"She can, but she can't organize these words to extract their meaning and react to them anymore," James replies. "It's like someone stranded in the wilderness with no cell signal."

"I'll think about it again," I say.

Emma's expression changes, she almost rushes over to hit me, "Are you deliberately retaliating against her? You want to see her slowly go crazy and die in the most embarrassing way possible, don't you!"

"Darling, darling, calm down," James holds her. "Aren't you having a meeting today? I'll drive you to the clinic now..."

The door slams shut, their arguing voices fade away.

I sit on the couch without moving, and so does Clara.

Her hands are neatly placed on her lap, unchanged in posture for so long. From my angle, I can only see the corner of her left eye and eyelashes, her straight nose, and slightly pale lips.

Then I don't know what I'm thinking, but when I realize it, I've already leaned in and kissed Clara's lips. I even lifted her chin with my hand, forcing her to open her mouth so that I could slip my tongue in.

Clara allows me to kiss her, but her gaze still vacant without any change.

Has her acting reached such a level?

I still don't believe it, so I pull her into the bathroom.

I strip myself naked, looking at my tall and sexy figure in the mirror. I have a good body, and Clara probably doesn't even know herself, every time she saw me naked before, her face would turn red.

I turn on the shower, stand under the showerhead, and pull Clara's uninjured hand over, feeling my abs. In the quiet bathroom, only the sound of water can be heard, and the mirror is covered with mist, reflecting our blurry silhouettes.

I toss the showerhead aside, my breathing gradually becoming heavy.

I cup Clara's face with my right hand, lower my head, and kiss her lips, making her pale lips turn red and swollen. My lower abdomen hurts a little.

But I'm not in a hurry. I lower my head to gently caress her earlobes, corners of her mouth, and collarbones with my tongue, while my left hand roams around Clara's body. But when I release my right hand and meet Clara's gaze, those eyes remain lifeless.

I let go of her, turn the shower to cold water mode, and stand under it, letting the water run over me.