'But when I'm hurt. Who cares about me?'
Her stomach twitched.
She had been eating cheap lunch from the film crew and the company for many years. In the past five years, her job as an agent had destroyed her innocence and her stomach.
As long as she was in a bad mood, she would have a stomachache.
She huddled up in the driver's seat, clenched her fist and pressed it against her stomach.
It still hurt.
Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead.
The phone in the other hand kept ringing.
She didn't have the strength to look at it. She knew that there must be something wrong with the restaurant and they couldn't deal with it, so they were searching for her everywhere.
She gritted her teeth and opened the small suitcase at the front of the car.
She was used to using strong pain killers.
Once she took o
" He said lightly.
"No." She refused.
'Does he need to be so arrogant?' "The painkillers work every time I take them."
'Stomachache is not a big deal. Why do I need to see a doctor? It won't kill me.'
"If you don't come tomorrow, I won't talk to you anymore."
After feeding her, he lowered his head and ate the extra bowl of porridge. The white jade soup was finished little by little by him.
Did this man need to make her angry with what she said just now?
"Humph, as if you have talked to me." She snorted coldly and turned her face away from him, not looking at his tempting look when eating.
Why was he so delicate?
Why was he so gentle?
'He is a domineering man. Why does he pretend to be gentle and elegant?'
"If I don't want to talk to you, I wouldn't have come." He said quickly in a low voice.