Chapter 1127: Chapter 1129: The Only One Allowed to
Thomas Shannon nodded, knocked on the door, then pushed it open and went in.
Edward Benson, who had been staring blankly at Isla Stanley’s profile, came back to his senses when he heard the noise.
"Edward, how are you feeling?"
Edward Benson struggled to sit up; the nurse immediately helped him up and stuffed a pillow behind his waist.
"I’m fine." Edward Benson gave a faint smile, though his facial color was still very pale.
Thomas Shannon’s gaze fell on his legs, then he casually glanced at Isla Stanley. She was sitting on sofa, never once looking over.
With a cold snort, he sat down at the bedside. "How come no one even poured you a cup of water?"
The nurse trembled all over. "Young Master, I’ll immediately..."
Thomas Shannon’s cold eyes darkened. He raised his hand to cut her off, and the nurse, shaking with fear, took a step back and lowered her head to stand properly.
Edward Benson frowned, knowing who he was talking about. "Thomas Shannon, I don’t want to drink water."
Isla Stanley finally moved. She poured two cups of water, handed one to Thomas Shannon and one to Edward Benson, her voice low. "Drink some water."
"Isla, Thomas Shannon means no harm, don’t take it to heart." Edward Benson’s worried gaze stayed tightly fixed on her.
Isla Stanley shook her head, indicating she was fine.
Thomas Shannon took a sip of water. "Now the one injured is you; her taking care of you is what she ought to do."
Edward Benson gave a bitter smile and gradually shook his head. "Thomas Shannon, if it were you, would you really be willing to let that maniac take care of you?"
"What would I have a hard time being willing about?" Thomas Shannon lounged back against the chair back, his eyebrow tips slightly raised.
He couldn’t ask for more than having Sophie Sullivan ache for him, eagerly hovering over him to care for him.
So he could tease her whenever he wanted; it would be ridiculously fun.
Edward Benson’s gaze landed on Isla Stanley’s thin cheek. "She’s already suffered too much. I can’t bear it..."
Thomas Shannon: "..."
His Fennie had also suffered a lot.
After staying in the medical office for over half an hour, Thomas Shannon finally got up and left.
When he return to ancient castle, not seeing Sophie Sullivan, he called a servant over and only then learned that she had return to bedroom to rest.
Thomas Shannon went upstairs to return to bedroom. As soon as he pushed the door open, he saw Sophie Sullivan lying on the on the bed asleep, her small face flushed rosy.
Harry was curled up, balled into a round lump, pressed tightly up against her side.
Thomas Shannon lightened his steps and came to the bedside. With one hand he picked up Harry, who was sleeping and snoring softly. Harry was startled in the dream, fur bristling as it yowled once.
Seeing its master, it immediately deflated again, its four limbs hanging down as it let the master carry it out of the bedroom.
Standing in the corridor, Thomas Shannon lightly tapped Harry’s head with one hand. "Later you’re not allowed to sleep beside her, got it?"
"Meow."
"The spot beside her is for me alone to sleep in. Remember that?"
Harry flailed its four legs a bit, and finally could only let out a weak meow.
Thomas Shannon was satisfied and let it go. "Go play by yourself, don’t bother us."
With that, he mercilessly shut Harry outside the bedroom door.
The mattress sank, and Sophie Sullivan felt the man next to her draw close. Half-asleep, she turned over and snuggled into his embrace.
Thomas Shannon lowered his eyes, looking at Sophie Sullivan in his embrace, obedient as a little cat, and his heart turned to complete mush.
"Fennie, be good."
His fingertips gradually rubbed her smooth cheek. Unable to help himself, Thomas Shannon lowered his head and gave her red lips a light peck.
If they had a daughter like her, she would definitely be so delicate—delicate and adorable.
A little cutie like a Snowball, softly calling him Dad. He would bring all the best things in the world and lay them out before her.
Thomas Shannon raised a hand to his forehead. He couldn’t let his thoughts go any further, or he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
