In the dim morning light, a cool breeze blew in through the window that was never closed tightly, ruffling the thick velvet curtains.
Chrisel opened his eyes suddenly, and the severe headache like a hangover and the soreness in his muscles made him frown instantly.
However, what came before the physical discomfort was the shattered yet burning fragments of last night's memory—
Pale skin under the moonlight, fragile and trembling eyelashes, suppressed sobs, and... that maddening smell that was a mixture of the sweetness of camellia and the smell of blood.
Chrisel's blood seemed to freeze instantly. He turned his head stiffly and his eyes fell on the pillow.
Yunwushu curled up in a corner of the wide bed, with his back to him, and the thin quilt only covered his waist.
The exposed shoulders and back were thin and graceful, but the originally fair skin was now covered with shocking marks: deep red kiss marks, purple fingerprints, and a few tiny abrasions left by rough treatment.
His soft hair was spread messily on the pillow, with a few strands stuck to his cheeks by dried tears.
Chrisel's heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an ice-cold hand and then thrown into boiling lava, burning repeatedly.
Huge guilt, self-blame and an indescribable panic instantly overwhelmed him.
He sat up suddenly, and the breeze caused by his movement made Yunwushu's body shudder almost imperceptibly, like a frightened little animal.
"Shu...Shu Shu..." Chrisel's voice was very dry and hoarse, filled with panic and caution.
Chrisel almost tumbled off the bed in such a hurry that he almost tripped over his own legs. He grabbed the robe scattered on the floor and wrapped himself in it, then stood there stiffly, like a statue nailed to a pillar of shame.
He looked at the huddled figure on the bed, his throat tight, unable to utter a word. The air was as heavy as lead.
As if sensing his movements, Yunwushu turned over very slowly and with difficulty, facing him.
The pair of eyes that always had a cold and distant look were now red and swollen, with bloodshot eyes and a trace of panic in their eyes.
He subconsciously pulled the quilt upwards, trying to cover more exposed skin. The action was full of defensiveness and hurt, like a young animal that was completely frightened.
"Shushu..." Chrisel's voice was terribly hoarse, with a heavy nasal tone and unconcealable pain.
He took a small step forward, then immediately stopped, as if even approaching was a form of blasphemy. "I... I'm sorry..." A thousand words finally morphed into these three pale, powerless words, weighing heavily between them.
Yun Wushu didn't say anything, but just lowered his eyelids. His long eyelashes cast heavy shadows under his eyes, covering up the excitement that flashed deep in his eyes.
"I don't blame you." The voice fell as lightly as a feather.
After a long silence.
"Shushu," Chrisel spoke again, his voice still hoarse, but with an unquestionable firmness, "I know... even if I say sorry a thousand times, it can't make up for the harm I have caused you. Last night... was my fault, I lost control, it was me... who hurt you." He uttered each word with difficulty, and each word seemed to be torturing himself.
He paused, as if gathering his courage, his gaze fixed firmly on Yun Wushu's pale and fragile face, and spoke clearly and solemnly, word by word:
"So, let me take responsibility, Shushu, marry me, and we...will get married."
The air seemed to completely freeze at this moment.
Yun Wushu suddenly raised his head, and his red and swollen eyes opened wide in an instant. All the fragility, panic, and even the deliberately created sense of hurt in his pupils were replaced by a pure, unbelievable, and huge astonishment in an instant!
"W...what?!" He almost screamed out loud, his voice rising and changing in pitch due to extreme shock, with obvious trembling.
Chrisel interpreted Yunwushu's huge shock as fear and resistance.
His heart ached, but his tone became even more resolute: "Only in this way can I legitimately take care of you and protect you, spend the rest of my life making up for this mistake, and take on all responsibilities for you. Shushu, I..."
"No!" Yun Wushu blurted out almost subconsciously, his voice sharp and flustered without him even noticing.
He looked into Kristel's blue eyes, which were filled with pain, guilt, and heavy responsibility, and for the first time, he felt the panic that the plan was completely out of control.
He needed Chriselle by his side and needed Chriselle's love, even if it was initially motivated by guilt, but he had never thought of truly wanting it in this way, bound by "responsibility."
This is completely different from what he expected!
The carefully planned coincidence, at this moment, seems to be running wildly in a direction that even the planner himself could not have expected.
The blood drained from Yun Wushu's pale face, leaving only pure shock and a trace of confusion from being hit by a huge accident.
*
After that out-of-control "accident", Chriselle seemed like a different person.
He moved almost all government affairs to the outer room of Yunwushu's bedroom and turned down all unnecessary social activities and meetings.
The Duke, who was once a powerful figure and could make strategic plans in parliament, is now like the most loyal servant, revolving around Yunwushu in every detail.
He personally supervised the doctor in preparing each dose of medicine, and only fed it to Yunwushu carefully after testing the temperature.
He remembered all of Yunwushu's subtle taste preferences and could even detect an extra grain of salt in his nutritious meal.
If Yunwushu heard any movement at night, he would wake up immediately and rush to the bed to check.
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