"Making a fuss?" Norris laughed as he looked up, "Trenton Smith, who wants to make a fuss with you?"
Trenton's eyes turned colder.
Her eyes were a bit red, she must have cried, and her face was still pale with sickness. On her fair neck that tilted upwards, there were still traces left from the passion last night.
She turned her eyes away, her expression tired, "I'm not making a fuss with you, Trenton Smith, I just want to be alone and quiet."
"Running here with a fever to be quiet?" he looked down at her, "Did you go to the beach to drink and get blown by the wind without caring about your life?"
"What does it matter to you where I go?" Norris's brow grew more and more furrowed as if trying to suppress his emotions, "Is it my fault that I'm in this state now?"
Trenton slightly pursed his lips, bent down, and scooped her up from the ground. As Norris bit his lip and struggled, he enclosed her in his arms, "It was my fault last night. I'll take you to the hospital."