Daisy Ginger held the warm milk she had just bought from the small supermarket outside the hospital and stuffed it into Edward Stephens' cold palm.
He looked sickly, appearing a bit pitiful.
"You've had a fever of forty degrees and still haven't seen a doctor," Daisy scolded him. "Do you want to turn it into pneumonia?"
The man opened his dark eyes, "Weren't you the one who refused to go to the hospital even with a forty-two-degree fever?"
"I had important things to deal with then."
"Well, I was handling important matters too."
What important matters? You can't even make a movie, what important matters?
Daisy glared at him, "Don't talk back."
"..." The man indeed said no more. He just looked at her, and for some reason, chuckled softly.
It was work hours, so the hospital wasn't very busy. A few people were sitting around, mostly elderly folks with children getting IV drips.
