CHAPTER 152: CHAPTER 152: IN THE BATHROOM?

Poppy Hale and Declan Hawthorne, couldn’t help but be influenced by Morgan Sloan’s emotions.

Their hands, clasped together, tightened even more.

After returning home.

Declan stood at his own door, looking down at Poppy, who stood next to him.

His eyes asking her, which way to go.

Poppy unhesitatingly opened her own door and quickly shut it.

Leaving Declan alone, standing in the hallway.

The man chuckled softly, extending his distinctly jointed fingers, and knocked on the door.

Urging her, to remember to come by later.

Then he opened the door to his own home.

Poppy heard those knocks on the door, and the magnetic laughter Declan had before going home.

Her heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

Truth Hale was sitting in the living room, knitting.

She had recently taken up knitting, buying a lot of colorful balls of yarn, so everyone at home, from old to young, human to dog, wore sweaters knitted by Truth.

However, as she was just starting out, her skills weren’t very refined yet.

The one Poppy wore beneath her down jacket was a masterpiece that Truth had unravelled and re-knitted several times.

Seeing Poppy return, Truth lifted her head and remarked.

"Back? Have you eaten?"

Poppy nodded.

On the way back, she and Declan had randomly found a restaurant to eat.

He had sought out some experienced psychological experts to diagnose Poppy’s aphasia, to see how she could recover.

Poppy wasn’t insistent about it.

In a video meeting, several doctors said Poppy’s current condition was good.

Maybe one day, when she’s happy, she might start speaking again.

The definition of happiness is quite broad.

The scene that day was too much of a shock for Poppy.

She had been wanting to shout for help, to save Declan, to save Florence and Anya, when she suddenly lost all her voice.

At that moment, the world in Poppy’s ears became silent.

If it weren’t for the fact that the Hale Group couldn’t have a mute decision-maker, Poppy might even have thought that it wasn’t so bad.

Poppy wasn’t anxious at all.

There’s no use being anxious.

Poppy sat beside Truth.

Florence was playing ball with Barrett, who was wearing a little pink sweater, on the floor.

Florence threw it, Barrett fetched it back to her, both thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Truth watched, a smile at the corners of her eyes.

Poppy took out her phone.

She received a message from Declan, asking when she would come over to give him a haircut.

Poppy suddenly felt like a student secretly dating behind her parents’ backs.

She was clearly grown up now.

Even if she dated now, it wouldn’t be considered an early romance.

Poppy coughed lightly, typing on her phone’s memo app to show Truth.

"I’m popping next door for a bit."

Followed by a cute emoticon.

The glasses on Truth’s nose slipped halfway down as she read the words on the screen, seemingly wanting to say something, but it only turned into.

"Why don’t you bathe before you go, save you coming back and forth."

Poppy’s ears turned red in an instant.

What on earth was Truth thinking!

She was just going for a haircut, not staying over at Declan’s place.

Truth continued knitting slowly, "Go ahead, and bring back a sweater that Young Hawthorne wears, I’ll knit him one too."

Poppy fell silent.

The sweaters that Truth knit were barely passable for her and Florence.

To have Declan wear a sweater knitted by Truth.

Poppy wouldn’t even know how to put it into words.

Luckily, she was mute now.

No need to answer Truth.

Turning back to her room, Poppy opened her wardrobe, hesitated for a moment.

She gritted her teeth, took two sets of pajamas and change of clothes, and just pulled them straight off the hanger.

Holding them, she headed next door.

Declan hadn’t closed the door.

As soon as she stepped inside, she was swept up by someone.

Both her and her clothes spun in the air a few times.

Poppy wanted to remind Declan she was holding a lot of clothes.

Except she couldn’t speak.

Thinking of hitting Declan a few times, but her hands were occupied with clothes.

She was in a dilemma.

Declan carried Poppy into the bedroom.

Seeing the clothes she was holding.

He opened his wardrobe, and placed Poppy and the clothes inside.

The wardrobe had a compartment.

When Poppy sat down, she leaned back, but Declan reached out to pull her back.

Declan looked down at her.

The limited space inside the wardrobe.

Declan’s height was significant.

Half of his body squeezed in, leaving little room inside, joined by his suits and Poppy holding clothes made the space even more cramped.

Declan’s nose approached Poppy’s.

"Why did you bring clothes?"

Pajamas, outdoor clothes, even underwear, were taken along.

Poppy’s eyes glistened as they fixed on him.

Declan leaned in closer.

"If you don’t speak, I’m going to kiss you."

How could she speak?

Poppy’s eyes widened.

Declan’s lips descended, disregarding the numerous clothes and the rigid hanger between them.

One kiss left Poppy’s arms and legs soft, her gaze blurry as she looked at Declan.

In the wardrobe, there was nothing but the sound of breathing, the bathroom faucet seemed not tightly closed, water dripped intermittently.

Poppy pushed Declan.

Wanting to check if the bathroom faucet was not turned off properly.

Yet, she couldn’t budge him.

Poppy simply opened her mouth, lightly biting Declan’s lip, not exerting force.

Declan pulled away, a hint of discontent in his voice.

"What’s the matter?"

Poppy blushed, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

Declan caught on immediately.

"You want to do it in the bathroom?"

Poppy’s ears instantly reddened.

This man, deliberately misunderstanding her!

She wanted to climb down, but the clothes on her were taken away by Declan.

Hung onto the wardrobe.

Put together with his austere suits.

Looked neat and uniform.

Also, added a variety of different colors.

Poppy’s clothes were vivid, colorful.

Her pajamas, with elaborate and cute lace and cartoon dolls.

Just looking at them, a smile crept up on Declan’s lips.

Holding Poppy, letting her legs wrap around his waist, Declan strode towards the bathroom.

Poppy was concerned about the injury on his waist, yet Declan seemed unfazed.

Once inside the bathroom.

The faucet indeed had a spout dripping water.

Declan opened a drawer, taking out a clipper, handing it to Poppy.

This was something he bought long ago to shave Iris Quill’s hair.

Never got to use it, it turned out it would be used on himself one day.

Although initially, Poppy was a bit hesitant and timid.

Once the clippers were in hand, she was eager to try.

Pressing on Declan’s shoulder, she let him sit on the bathtub’s edge.

This way, any fallen hair would be easier to clean.

She played around with it in her hand for a bit.

The first pass, she missed the right spot.

Poppy nervously chuckled.

Fortunately, it was the back of the head.

Declan shouldn’t notice.

The subsequent movements became more careful.

Once done, except for a noticeable spot at the back of the head, the front posed no issue.

Declan spoke, "Let me see the back."

Poppy immediately tensed.

Glancing around.

She simply leaned in, kissed Declan’s cheek.

Distracting him.