Her hand was gentle and soft, and when it touched his fingertips, Dawn Sutherland felt a warmth ignite, his eyes filled with starlight.
"Daisy, let me wipe this for you, it won't be good if it gets infected and inflamed."
Dawn's voice was warm and pleasant, causing Daisy Grant's heartbeat to race uncontrollably. She looked up at the gentle and refined Dawn, and smiled softly, "Thank you, Brother Dawn."
Dawn smiled faintly, taking her hand and carefully applying alcohol to disinfect, his touch gentle, his gaze equally gentle.
Ariel Morris, lying on the sickbed, watched the two in front of her and turned her eyes to the window outside, unable to help but mutter to herself: Am I a third wheel? Why do I feel like a thousand-watt bulb right now?
"Daisy, when I'm discharged, shall we go out and have some fun? Go for a walk and see the scenery," Ariel's voice rang out again.
