Chapter 448 I Should See You Off
In the dimly lit room, Katniss, fresh out of the shower, wore a spaghetti-strap nightgown and applied ointment to the bruises on her wrist left by Jasper.
The sound of water trickling from the bathroom felt like it was tapping directly on her heart, making her feel a tingling sensation deep inside.
The water stopped abruptly, and within seconds, the bathroom door swung open. Katniss looked up to see Tristan stepping out.
Tristan was shirtless, water droplets sliding down his chest muscles.
They traced the defined lines of his abs, disappearing into the white towel wrapped around his waist, highlighting the tantalizing V-line that made her mind wander.
Tristan dried his short hair, his deep eyes reflecting Katniss sitting at the edge of the bed, her slender and delicate figure.
His Adam's apple tightened, and he tossed the towel aside, striding over to her, supporting himself on one knee at the bed's edge, and bent down to cover her lips with his.
Katniss tilted her head back, her long hair cascading down, as Tristan's veined hand threaded through her hair, holding her head to deepen the kiss.
The teasing taste left him wanting more, especially since it had been a while since he touched her. She was a bit nervous, her slightly trembling hand clutching his wrist.
She didn't know how to react other than to go along with it.
Whispering in her ear, Tristan pressed his forehead against hers, their noses touching, "Let me help you with the ointment."
Besides the bruise on her wrist, there was a more alarming one on her waist.
Katniss also had a few bruises on her slender legs from accidental bumps, which made his heart tighten.
She climbed down, pulling her nightgown down to her waist, revealing her smooth back, making the bruise stand out even more.
Tristan squeezed the milky ointment onto her skin, his rough fingers gently spreading it, restraining his wandering thoughts, and then applied it to her legs as well.
The last spot was her ankle. He held her foot, tilting his head as he carefully applied the ointment.
She lay on the bed, watching him without blinking.
After finishing, Tristan placed the ointment aside, and before Katniss could react, he suddenly pressed down on her.
Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her clear eyes wide with surprise, her lips slightly parted.
"Does your waist hurt?" Tristan leaned down, his hand fixed on her waist.
She nodded, "It hurts."
"Bear with it, I can't hold back anymore." Tristan's hand moved up her arm, hooking the strap of her nightgown and sliding it down.
She turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness, the increasingly heavy breathing making the atmosphere subtly intimate.
Tristan tried to be gentle, afraid of hurting her waist, but occasionally lost control of his strength.
Caught in this dilemma of control and lack of control, the veins on his neck bulged, adding to his wildness.
Katniss's song-like voice shattered his rationality in an instant, causing him to lose control.
They didn't sleep all night.
Early in the morning, Tristan finally moved off Katniss.
Exhaustion and soreness hit her hard, but she couldn't sleep, her glossy lips slightly parted, breathing lightly.
Katniss lay limp in Tristan's arms, feeling like it was a dream, afraid to sleep, fearing that if she woke up, he would lie back down and be unable to open his eyes.
His brows showed satisfaction as he held her body, when suddenly his phone rang on the bedside table.
Tristan picked it up; it was a voice message from Emory, reminding him to go to the hospital for a full-body checkup today.
Emory didn't forget to add: [I bet if I didn't remind you, you wouldn't be able to get up.]
Absence made the heart grow fonder, especially with Tristan and Katniss's emotional journey that would bring tears to anyone's eyes."Rest a bit more," Tristan said softly. It was just six o'clock. He knew Katniss couldn't sleep, but he wanted her to rest a little longer.
She kissed his cheek, her slender arms wrapped around his strong waist, responding lazily.
Tristan's thumb gently slid over Katniss's shoulder, while his other hand fiddled with his phone, his gaze darkening at what he saw.
At eight o'clock, Evie woke up, clamoring to find them.
Sophia placed her at the door, and she slowly walked in, holding onto the wall.
When she couldn't find anything to hold onto, she simply crawled over.
She grabbed the bed sheet, lifting her chubby little legs, and rolled onto the bed.
Then Evie sat between Katniss and Tristan, smiling at Tristan, showing her two little teeth.
The next second, Tristan lifted Evie to sit on his lap, "Weren't you quite the troublemaker at the wedding?"
He held a small grudge; Evie had hurt his feelings that day.
Evie didn't understand, just kept smiling, her eyes fixed on Tristan, not even glancing at Katniss.
Until Katniss poked her protruding belly and said, "Kiss Daddy, Daddy is upset."
Whether Evie understood or not, she looked at Tristan with her big watery eyes for a while, then let out a soft call.
She bent over, sticking her butt out, and kissed Tristan's face.
Her saliva covered half his face, but his gloomy expression instantly turned into a smile.
Seeing that, Katniss couldn't bear to look directly.
Wasn't he holding a grudge about the wedding? A kiss from Evie, even with saliva, settled it.
The family of three stayed in bed until the last moment, then reluctantly got up to wash.
Sophia had already had breakfast ready.
Tristan walked as if he had fully recovered. Sophia noticed it when he returned last night, her joy evident as she fed Evie, feeling both touched and sad.
She almost cried but held back.
After breakfast, Sophia took Evie, urging the couple to go to the hospital for their checkup.
They had an appointment, and upon arrival, Tristan was immediately sent to the examination room.
Emory and Nicholas were there. After Tristan went in, Nicholas walked over and whispered, "Travis isn't dead. He's in the ICU, still in critical condition."
Recalling the fire yesterday, Travis was almost electrocuted, lying stiff on the ground. Katniss thought he would die there.
"But the doctor said the chances of saving him are slim. Even if he survives, he'll live in pain for the rest of his life," Nicholas added.
Katniss glanced at the examination room and finally said, "Don't tell him about this."
Tristan's hatred for Travis was deep, but being consumed by hatred for a loved one was always painful and conflicting.
It was better for him to think Travis died in that fire.
ICU.
Travis's face was peeling, his eyes unable to close, painfully staring at the ceiling, listening to the cold sounds of the machines.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a man in sterile clothing and a mask walked in, standing by his bed, looking at him coldly.
Their eyes met, and Travis recognized the man, his pupils dilating, trying to move but groaning in pain.
"Why are you nervous?" The man leaned down, whispering in his ear, "I'm not here to kill you. After all, we're father and son. But I thought I should send you off."
Travis glared at the man, gritting his teeth.
The man chuckled, "Let me tell you a story. The accident that made you lose your ability to father children wasn't an accident. My mom arranged it to make you miserable, to separate you from your wife, so she could marry in and plan a new identity for me."
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