The wound wasn't deep; it had just been rinsed with ice water and the bleeding had stopped, but Adam Jones wasn't reassured and pulled her towards the living room.
Elly Campbell was still thinking about the images that had flashed through her mind a moment ago and didn't notice anything else, allowing Adam to lead her to the living room to sit down.
It wasn't until the sting of the iodine on the wound that she was jolted back from the blood-boiling images in her head.
At some point, Adam had fetched the first-aid kit and was now half-kneeling on one knee, cleaning her wound.
From her angle, Adam's features were so flawless that she couldn't find a single fault to pick at.
Back then, she decided she wanted to marry him at first sight, probably because of his face—she must have been smitten by his looks.
Brother, will you marry me?
Suddenly, her own voice popped into her head, not the childish tone of her youth, but her current voice.
