Chapter 152: A Quiet Room, A Restless Heart
A Quiet Room, A Restless Heart
At this moment, Julian D’Aurelius was also taken to the hospital.
The emergency lights reflected off polished floors, the sterile scent of disinfectant lingering thick in the air. Nurses passed by in hurried steps, doctors exchanged quiet instructions—but all of it slowed, just a little, when they saw the scene at the entrance.
Amidst the astonished gazes of everyone in the hospital...
Julian was carried into the ward by Charlotte Bonds in a princess carry for examination.
Her long azure hair swayed slightly with each step, her expression tight, focused—completely ignoring the stares around her.
A nurse blinked twice, whispering to another, "Did she just... carry him like that?"
"Is that her boyfriend?"
"I don’t think so... but look at her face..."
Maybe Charlotte wasn’t listening. Or perhaps she heard just fine but chose to ignore it.
Almost without notice, her hold on Julian grew firmer. Like letting go one instant could mean he’d be gone. A quiet fear shaped the way she held on.
Out of the way, she snapped at the wide-eyed intern frozen in the corridor.
Out of nowhere, he came back to his senses fast - then moved away without a word.
Before long, a nurse guided Julian down onto the mattress. A quiet hush settled around him as the wheels of the bed stopped rolling.
By its side, Charlotte stayed, breaths coming in fits. She did not move, air shaky in her chest.
Staring without pause, she watched his every move. Not once did her gaze shift away.
For just an instant? Not at all.
—
Fortunately, after a while, the doctor handed the examination report to Charlotte and said,
"Miss Bonds, your partner is fine. Just overexerted. A good rest will help him recover."
Charlotte froze for a second.
Then—
"He’s not my partner."
Her voice came out a little too fast.
A faint blush crept across her cheeks, betraying her calm.
The doctor paused... then chuckled softly.
"Oh? Not your partner?"
His eyes flicked toward Julian... then back to her.
"You carried him all the way here yourself. You were checking him every second on the way. I’ve seen fewer worried looks from actual spouses."
Charlotte’s face heated up even more.
"That’s... not what it looks like."
"Of course, of course," the doctor said with a knowing smile, clearly not convinced.
He didn’t push further, though.
Just waved lightly.
"Anyway, he’s fine. No internal injuries. You can relax."
Then he turned and walked out, still smiling to himself.
Charlotte stood there for a moment.
Silent.
Her gaze slowly returned to Julian.
He lay there quietly, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.
His face—normally sharp, slightly mischievous—now looked unusually calm.
Too calm.
Charlotte frowned slightly.
After taking so many hits...
How could he really be fine?
Her fingers tightened unconsciously.
What if something was missed?
What if there’s internal damage the machines didn’t catch?
That uneasiness in her chest refused to settle.
She bit her lower lip slightly.
"...No. I’ll check again."
Muttering softly to herself, she stepped closer.
With careful hands—
She began removing Julian’s shirt.
The fabric slid away, revealing his upper body.
Charlotte grabbed a wet towel from the bedside and gently began wiping away the dried blood.
Her movements were slow. Careful.
Almost... hesitant.
As the stains faded—
His physique became clear.
Firm muscles.
Defined lines.
And—
An unmistakable eight-pack.
Charlotte’s hand paused mid-motion.
Her breath hitched for just a second.
Her face flushed faintly.
...
As a police officer—
She had always despised weak, delicate men.
In her mind, the man she would accept had to be strong. Reliable. Able to fight.
Someone who could stand in danger—
Not hide behind it.
And... yes.
Abs were definitely part of that image.
Her fingers hovered just above his abdomen.
Her thoughts became... slightly chaotic.
Why am I even noticing this?
Focus, Charlotte.
You’re checking for injuries... that’s it.
Just then—
Julian shifted slightly in his sleep, his brows knitting faintly like he was about to wake.
Charlotte panicked for a split second.
"What are you doing, idiot..." she whispered under her breath, as if scolding herself.
But then she looked at his face again.
Peaceful. Unaware.
Something about it softened her expression.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
She let out a small sigh.
"...Fine."
Then, in a low voice, almost as if explaining to someone—
"Uh... if I’m not mistaken... I’m just checking if the abs are injured."
The excuse sounded weak.
Even to her own ears.
Still—
She placed her hand lightly against his abdomen.
And gently pressed.
Warm.
Firm.
Solid.
"...Not bad," she muttered before she could stop herself.
Then immediately froze.
What did I just say?
Her ears turned red.
She coughed lightly, trying to act normal.
Her fingers moved again, more professionally this time—pressing lightly, checking for bruising or abnormal reactions.
But her thoughts...
This is just a check.
Just a check.
Why does it feel like I’m doing something weird?
Her heartbeat picked up slightly.
After a few seconds—
She pulled her hand back abruptly.
"That’s enough."
She turned him slightly to the side.
Carefully checking his back.
Her fingers traced along his shoulder blades, down his spine—looking for any hidden injuries.
But—
Nothing.
No wounds.
No bruises.
His body was... completely fine.
Charlotte frowned again.
How is that even possible?
After taking that many hits...
Even trained fighters wouldn’t come out like this.
And yet—
He looked perfectly intact.
She bit her lip again.
"...Still haven’t checked below."
The thought slipped out quietly.
Then she froze.
Her own words echoing in her mind.
Her gaze slowly drifted downward.
Her expression turned... complicated.
She remembered clearly—
Back at the casino...
Julian had held onto his pants tightly.
Refusing to let her check.
Was he hiding something?
Was he injured somewhere... sensitive?
The doctor said he was fine.
But what if—
They missed it?
Her sense of responsibility as a police officer kicked in again.
No.
Better safe than sorry.
Charlotte took a deep breath.
Then reached toward his waistband.
"...Just to confirm."
Her fingers hooked lightly onto the fabric.
She hesitated for a second—
Then slowly started pulling it down.
At that exact moment—
Julian’s eyes snapped open.
"What the hell!"