"Then tell me, is there anything I can do for you? Are you really planning to just sit and wait for death?" Scarlett Yates anxiously grabbed his collar, her petite face scrunching up.
Matthew Saxon curled his lips, lifted her chin with one hand, and gazed deeply into her eyes with his long, narrow eyes. There was a drowning tenderness in his eyes: "Scarlett, so you really do care about me."
Scarlett's face flushed as she slapped his hand away, frowning urgently, "Matthew Saxon, you..."
"Hush, Scarlett, don't talk, let me hold you for a while, alright?" Matthew gently pulled her into his embrace, softly burying his head into the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath. One hand gently stroked her hair while he lazily leaned against her body, his thin lips closer to her ear, whispering, "Don't worry, I won't die. I have my people here."
What?
Scarlett's eyes widened in surprise.
