~ Past separated them, now pain will bring them together.~
A teenager Sofia Hayden, experiencing her falling apart family isolated herself slowly from everything that she held dear, especially from her best friend Max Wilder who had just realized hi...
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After opening her eyes, as she slowly drifted out of the semi-dark world of unconsciousness, Sofia wasn't sure of what she expected to see exactly. She was pretty certain though that it was definitely not what was now before her—sitting by her bedside on a chair, head lolled to one odd angle on the backrest, looking like a vulnerable damsel instead of an arrogant, know-it-all lawyer Max Wilder. Also, his mouth was a little gaped, and Sofia was suspicious if there was any drool crawling down the other side of his face that she could not see.
And there was only one thing running through Sofia's mind as she tried fighting off the blurriness from her eyes, that was if this was how Max looked while asleep, then he should sleep all the time. That way, the world could be saved from his insane outbursts and eleventh-hour cruelties.
Sighing, Sofia looked away, only to notice that she was in a white room, her ankle felt heavy, and her midriff was a little raised by a pillow under her back.
She was brought into a bloody hospital!
Irritation filled her to the extreme. She was so going to kill someone if the hospital bill came out any outrageous. And to not make the hospital bill any more outrageous than it perhaps already was, she began quickly sitting up with the means of escaping this place. But her hasty movements only made pain shoot through different parts of her body.
Groaning aloud and cursing mentally, she dropped back down.
Instantly, Max jumped up straight from the chair.
Startled, Sofia jerked in surprise. "Goodness!" she muttered under her breath.
Max was looking wide-eyed at her, moving his eyes up and down her whole form, pausing momentarily on her leg and ribs.
Instinctively, feeling quite nervous, Sofia yanked the light white sheet over her stomach, dragging it up to her chin.
She glared at him. Or tried to. Despite feeling too tired to deliver a glare that sprayed life-melting lava out of it, she was keen on at least making a hell of an attempt to do just that because the man didn't look vulnerable anymore now that he was awake.
Sofia narrowed her eyes and observed that he looked instead—worried, exhausted, and angry, all at the same time. The reason, of course, was not very hard for her to guess. It was certain that he was stressed out at the prospect of him getting the seal of a woman beater from society. He had said so himself. Had he not?
Also, she noticed he had a bruise on his right cheek, which had been out of her sight until now, hidden while he slept.
Where had he gotten that from? Did she even want to ask and get her head bitten off for it?
Once again, Sofia tried to lift herself to a sitting position.
"Do not even try to move," was Max's immediate, loud, clear command.
