Me After Meeting You

Chapter 125. AMBER’S ANGER



Amber’s body seemed slim, but she practiced yoga whenever she was free, so she wasn’t all that weak. Since Ian was still ill, she actually managed to break free from his grasp.

She took two steps back and looked at him. Her eyes were so bright that it seemed like sparks of flame would come out of them at any moment; meanwhile, her lips had become red and swollen from his biting, and they looked just like ripe peaches that had been slightly pinched, which gave them an unusual charm of their own.

Ian’s fingers moved a little, and the IV drip was pulled taut against the back of his hand, sparking a jolt of pain. He regained his senses and found that the needle had been half pulled out. The medicine was now mixing with his red blood, and the resulting blend was slowly dripping down the side of the bed.

He decided to just rip the whole needle out, throw it to one side, and use his other hand to tightly press against the bleeding one.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

When Amber saw this series of actions, she became quite disconcerted, so much so that she eventually called the nurses’ station. “The VIP room’s patient is bleeding from his hand.”

Ian glanced at her, put on his shoes, and got off of the bed as Amber looked at him warily. “If you keep messing around ….” Before she could finish, he had already left the room without looking back, all the while clutching his hand.

Amber heard his impatient tone. “The bed’s dirty!”

“….”

The nurses quickly came over. Some changed the bedsheets, others mopped the floor, and some others changed the IV drip. The room was suddenly filled with bustling activity.

Amber had calmed down by now, and was currently standing to one side. Ian’s grandparents noticed that she was forcing herself to stay calm, and when they thought to their grandson’s “valiant” actions, they felt a bit guilty. But they didn’t even mention anything about him to her, instead trying to fawn over her. “Dr. Camille, do you want something to eat?”

Or, “Dr. Camille, are you tired?”

As Ian’s grandmother was asking if she was tired, her husband pulled on her arm.

Amber pretended to not have heard anything. Given how convoluted it all was, what could she say?

Upon hearing the commotion, Ian’s primary doctor also rushed over. After finding out that Ian’s IV drip had had a problem, he was very displeased.

“Was he playing around with it?” First, he scolded all the bystanders. “What were all of you doing? His hand’s as swollen as a steamed bun. Do you think that his illness is funny?”

And then he scolded Ian. “Mr. Axton, I know you have a bad temper, and honestly, my temper’s worse than yours. However, you shouldn’t think that you can relax just because your condition has improved a lot these last few days.

If septicemia were that easy to treat, then you wouldn’t have been sent here in a hurry that night! Your life is your own affair. If you think that it’s funny to play around with it, then fine. Please turn right as you exit, and stop causing trouble for the hospital!”

Besides Ian, everyone else was scolded so much that their faces turned green. The primary doctor grew more and more mad until he finally left in a huff with a cold face right after he finished inspecting Ian.

Ian’s grandfather quickly chased after him.

On the other hand, Ian acted as if nothing had happened. His face was still frowning as he complained, “The bed’s dirty.”

Nurse A replied, “We’ve already replaced the bedsheets, they’re all clean.”

“It’s still dirty!”

Nurse B explained, “It’s really not dirty. We’ve already disinfected everything, and the floor’s been mopped clean too.”

Even his grandmother coaxed him, trying to get him to relax, “It’s really not dirty anymore. I just inspected it. It’s really clean.”

Ian still felt that the sheets weren’t clean, so he sat on the sofa as he continued to frown heavily with pursed lips and an expression saying that he wouldn’t tolerate it one bit.

While they were stuck in a deadlock, Amber stood up. “Do you feel like your blood’s dirty too? Then do you also know that you used to stoop and poop near the dining table in your home? And who knows how many people’s saliva, sweat, germs have touched the road that you walk on daily. And that’s not even mentioning the children and pet feces and urine ….”

Ian’s grandmother anxiously cried out, “Dr. Camille!”

Amber ignored her, continuing to look at Ian and monologue. “Do you think that when you wash yourself after going home that you’re really clean? Do you think that, after you disinfect yourself, everything will be just fine?

Yes, at least you’ll be clean and free from germs, but so what? You’re a clean freak through and through, but do you think that your unnaturally sensitive skin is actually natural? No, it’s not.

It’s a result of your overly fastidious habits. Your body’s immune system has lost its capabilities, which is how such a small allergic reaction could lead to such a severe cold and even to septicemia! Do you remember what I told you that time? About how the nature of clean freaks is to like dirty things? It’s not you who likes it.

It’s every cell in your body, every strand of hair and every gland in your skin! They’re all particularly susceptible to dirtiness and attractive to all sorts of bacteria! Do you understand?!”

She said this with such vigor and conviction that the two nurses listening had been struck dumb. She waved them away. “Leave, let him do what he wants! As the doctor said, this illness is his to treat or not treat. This body is his. As to whether it’s dead or living, why should we care? All he’s doing right now is throwing a tantrum because he knows that there are others who are willing to coddle him!”

“Doctor … Dr. Camille.”

“Leave!”


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