CHAPTER 24: CHAPTER 24: A SERIES OF WET KISSES

His deep, shadowed eyes lowered, obscuring his emotions.

Unwilling to touch the person in his arms, he harshly shoved her away once more!

"Miss! Can you stand steady?"

But barely had he pushed her away, Annelise Winter fell back; she was dizzy, utterly devoid of support, and it seemed she would fall completely.

Elias Warner, at the end of his patience, finally grasped her wrist and pulled her back!

The impact hit.

He retreated, his slim waist striking the railing behind him, sending waves of piercing pain!

Even so, Elias Warner didn’t want to touch her.

As soon as he let go, Annelise’s warm breath brushed against his throat, then slid south along his collarbone.

Like a series of wet kisses.

Seeing she was about to slip down his abdomen onto the floor, Elias Warner finally pulled her back up once again.

His chest was oppressed, his expression icy with cold, his patience gone, he gripped her jaw harshly, wanting to wake her.

"Stand steady yourself, don’t force me to throw you out!"

The next second, feeling the scorching temperature beneath his fingertips, he reached for her forehead where it was even hotter. Elias Warner closed his eyes deeply and scooped her up horizontally.

In these past few days, Annelise Winter was too tired, too exhausted, not daring to relax for even a minute.

These rounds back and forth caused her to completely lean against Elias Warner’s chest and fall into slumber.

She didn’t know where she was, only that the person holding her felt cold and unyielding, yet comfortable.

It felt secure.

Like a person anxious for five years, finally finding solid ground.

This feeling, as if Elias Warner was holding her.

Unknowingly, tears quietly slid down.

Those wet tears soaked into Elias Warner’s uniform shirt, seeped into his skin, scorching every nerve there.

Elias Warner’s expression turned even colder than before.

All the way, they arrived at his exclusive captain’s prep room.

This room was specially prepared for him by The Airline.

Upon entering, Elias Warner did not let her sleep on the bed but threw her onto a nearby sofa.

His cold gaze fell, lashes casting reflections in the room devoid of others, finally enveloping her within his view.

The body in his arms weighed almost nothing.

So light, it seemed it could slip through his fingers at any moment.

The skin touching his chest, one could faintly see the fine down on it.

Even without any color in her face, she was unforgettable and beautiful.

The tears staining her eyes made one want to break her wings, to utterly destroy her.

Yet, fleetingly, his mind conjured her words spoken before others, that she was not interested in him, so why provoke him again and again?

He had thought she was regretting what happened back then, her provocations meant to seek reconciliation.

Unexpectedly, she couldn’t forget Chase Perry, crying for him even in Elias’s arms.

He didn’t even know she was asking for leave to go back to her hometown from Kybourne.

Was she toying with him again? On what grounds?

Emotions crumbling to the brink, the rampant jealousy felt like his insides were being torn apart by her heartless hands.

All the emotions pulling at him were instantly replaced by coldness.

...

Five minutes later.

Elias Warner stood by the wall outside the prep room, his long legs propped lazily, gaze lowered. His once crisp and clean captain’s uniform shirt had its collar undone, casting a desolate reflection on the ground.

Uncle Ford had already brought the doctor in, coming out shortly to report the situation.

"Captain Warner, Dr. Winter is okay, her fever has subsided, probably too exhausted and weak lately, so she’s fallen asleep. Let her have a good rest!"

The director of the clinic’s surname was Wright, "I’ve given her a drip again, if convenient, let her finish it here, but when she wakes, she still needs to recuperate, she’s too thin."

Elias Warner calmly listened, switching off the phone that had been ringing in his pocket, "Alright, Uncle Ford, see Director Wright out."

Uncle Ford, while escorting Director Wright, naturally handled it tactfully.

Advising the director not to speak carelessly.

The director naturally understood.

Returning to the door of the captain’s prep room, Uncle Ford glanced at his phone to check the time.

"Young Master, it’s already three in the afternoon! There’s only a bit over an hour left until the flight takes off, shouldn’t you attend the pre-flight preparation meeting?"

Elias Warner remained silent, icy, responding lightly.

"Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Miss Annelise here!"

With a cold face, Elias Warner buttoned up his shirt neatly.

Uncle Ford tried to gauge Elias Warner’s expression but found nothing unusual on his face, so he said, "Young Master, you’ve just returned home and need to go out again, I really can’t bear it."

Even though he was back, spending most of his time flying in and out, rarely in Kybourne, there was barely any time for a relationship.

"It’s not like I won’t be coming back!"

Soothing Uncle Ford, the man’s pupils, dark as the depths of the sea, flickered with impatience, "Go inform Chase Perry to come take her away!"

As if every second was intolerable.

Uncle Ford dared not delay, "Yes, I’ll call now."

Elias Warner acknowledged, lowering his gaze as he toyed with a lighter, not in a hurry to leave, seemingly waiting for Uncle Ford to return with a report.

At this moment, a moan sounded from the room.

With somber eyes, he looked out the window, disinclined to react.

After a while, there was a rustling sound.

Only then did he, enduring his temper, walk to the door.

The door was ajar; he didn’t push it open, his stoic figure standing at the entrance, peering in through the gap.

The light on the platinum watch on his wrist was cold and noble, his pilot’s uniform coat hanging limp, idly clutched in his hand.

The expression on his face was an icy composure, eyes dark as he observed the woman in the room like stormy waves at sea at night, roaring as if to consume her.

Two seconds later, he vaguely heard someone calling his name.

"Elias..."

Murmurs, choked with sobs.

Like a wisp of wind blown into his torn heart.

He thought he must have heard it wrong.

Finally, he grasped the doorknob, pushing the door open.

Once inside, he locked the door behind him.