Satisfied, Evelyn threw the empty cup into the trash can and made him lie down on the bed.

"You should sleep.”

"Okay." He closed his eyes as if he was sleepy.

When she turned around to take a shower, he grabbed her hand.

“Evelyn, don't go. I'm not feeling well," he said weakly.

“I'm not leaving. I'm going to take a shower." She sat beside the bed and comforted him softly.

"No shower, Evelyn. I want to sleep with you in my arms." He wouldn't

Let go of her.

Evelyn sighed since he was acting like a spoiled brat.

“Okay, I'll just take off my coat."

She pulled her arm from his grip, picked up his coat that he had placed at the foot of the bed, and hung it next to her coat on the rack.

Sheffield moved to make room for her on the bed.

As soon as Evelyn Lay in bed, he pulled her into his arms.

She relaxed when he didn't try anything else and just held her in his arms.

“Evelyn, I want to talk to you," he whispered in her ears. To himself, he thought, ‘She's on guard, so I need to do something or say something to let her guard down.*

“Aren't you sleepy?"

“I'm not sleepy yet!"

“Okay, then tell me." She Listened carefully.

Whenever she was in a conversation, she always acted as the listener but never the talker.

“But I want to Listen to you talk. If you tell me a story, maybe I'll fall asleep soon."

Evelyn didn't know what to say. Tell stories? That was hard for her.

Since he was sick, she reluctantly compromised.

“What do you want to hear?"

“I want to hear your story." He was only interested in her.

Evelyn looked outside the window at the night. She touched his forehead, and luckily, it wasn't burning at all.