"You're crying so ugly. Go wash your face, take a shower. You're staying here tonight!" He gave the heavy order, and his decision, which was supposed to be non-negotiable, was defeated by her tears.
Apart from the pain in his back, at that moment, he felt nothing.
Sophia was crying deeply. She hid in the bathroom to wipe her tears and, as expected, saw her reflection in the mirror with a red nose and swollen eyes. She really did look terrible.
Her heart ached, too. She had never seen Capone look so disappointed, and she never imagined he would be so harsh with Penny.
She knew Capone had been ruthless with Penny because of her. He had taken the crazy attack for her, and in doing so, he had gotten hurt. But there were so many misunderstandings and mutual hurts between them before this. Just clearing up one issue wouldn't erase everything that had happened.
She quickly showered, not bringing any change of clothes, so she ended up wearing the same outfit as before.
When she came out, she saw Capone standing by the porthole, smoking. His gaze was distant, his back stained with blood, some of it already dried. The sight made her heart tighten.
On the small table next to him was a first aid kit, which seemed to have been delivered by a servant earlier, but he hadn't dealt with the injury yet.
"Capone!" She called him softly, unwilling to provoke him and not knowing how to start a conversation.
Capone ignored her, stubbed out his cigarette, and picked up the first aid kit, heading toward the bathroom.
His wound needed tending to, and he didn't want to argue with her here anymore.
"I'll help you!"
Sophia grabbed his arm and, with a natural motion, took the first aid kit from him.
Capone didn't insist. He threw his clothes aside. "Just call them to send someone over. I don't need you to handle it!"
Sophia knew his temper. If she actually went to make the call, he would only be more disappointed and upset, so she pretended she hadn't heard him.
"You lie down on the bed first. Let me take a look at your wound."
Her voice was soft, like pudding, yet carried an irresistible firmness.
Capone lay on the bed, and the gruesome wounds spread out before Sophia's eyes.
Perhaps it was because she had cried so hard earlier, and her tears hadn't fully subsided. A little bit of stimulation caused more tears to fall, the warm droplets landing on his bare back. Capone's muscles tensed slightly.
"Why are you crying? I didn't force you. If you don't want to do it, just call kk and have them send someone over. There are doctors and nurses on this ship!"
Capone's tone was unpleasant, and as he spoke, he almost sat up. He was really irritated by her tears, feeling like no matter what he did, he was in the wrong.
Yet he couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong.
"No... I can do it. Lie down," she said, pressing her hand against his back. It was cool and soft.
The first aid kit contained saline solution, iodine, and the best wound medication. Sophia gently cleaned the blood off his wounds, using tweezers to carefully remove the shards of glass. She was both nervous and pained.
She truly couldn't remain indifferent to him.
Moreover, this situation inevitably reminded them both of the time they were stranded at sea, when she had treated his gunshot wound. It was the first time they had truly faced their feelings for each other, but now, they were trapped in this deadlock.
"You've improved since before!" Capone's face was half-buried in the pillow as he muttered, referring to Sophia's skill in treating his wounds.
"Yeah, I learned a bit by watching videos!" She didn't dare to tell him that she had watched quite a few basic first aid books and videos, just so she wouldn't be at a loss in situations like this.
Capone remained silent.
"Does it hurt?" She removed another shard of glass.
"No, it doesn't."
Sophia carefully cleaned the wound, applied the medicine, and dressed it with a bandage. She noticed his clothes, soaked in blood, were torn and could no longer be worn. She went to get a bathrobe to drape over his back.
Capone yanked the robe off and threw it aside. "No need for that, I'm going to take a shower."
"Your wound can't get wet for the next few days!"
"As long as I don't get my back wet, it'll be fine."
"But—"
Capone didn't let her finish, standing up and heading straight for the bathroom. Sophia had no choice but to follow him in.
Capone ignored her, casually removing his pants and standing completely exposed.
His muscles were firm but not exaggerated, and his body proportions were perfect. Even without clothes, his physical beauty—both powerful and graceful—was evident. Sophia's face turned as red as the setting sun. Though they had seen each other naked countless times, she still couldn't look at his body directly. It felt like being burned by the sight, and she instinctively wanted to hide.
There was also the tattoo on his chest. It looked so aggressive, brimming with vitality, yet it changed in intensity with his mood—sometimes bold, sometimes subdued.
She didn't dare to look, but couldn't help but sneak peeks.
Capone mistook her shyness for resistance and avoidance. With a cold laugh, he said, "I didn't ask you to come in. Who are you putting on this act for? Get out, close the door!"
He reached to turn on the shower.
"Don't!" Sophia rushed over to push him, trying to prevent his body from getting wet. But the shower head came on, drenching her completely.
Capone, caught off guard by her push, stumbled backward, his back hitting the cold frosted glass. His anger flared up and was about to erupt, but then he saw Sophia standing under the shower, completely drenched. Her bangs clung to her forehead, and her once fluffy curly hair now hung in damp curls. Her clothes stuck to her skin, revealing the dark purple of her underwear beneath.
The anger in his heart was instantly quelled, but a new fire surged within him, wild and uncontrollable, like a beast breaking free.
In his mind, it seemed as though nothing registered, yet an endless stream of thoughts flooded in. Before he even realized it, he had pulled Sophia towards him, pressing her firmly against the glass behind them, and kissed her fiercely.
The shower was turned off, but the tide of emotions surged, sweeping both of them into its whirlpool.
He pushed the hair clinging to her face and neck aside, cupping her head with both hands, kissing her deeply and urgently. His tongue slid between her lips, teasing her relentlessly, giving her no room to breathe.
Then, her clothes—her shirt, her pants—one by one were removed. His kisses were frantic, almost as if he had lost his composure, as he kissed the sensitive parts of her body, biting her collarbone and the soft, delicate tips of her chest, hearing her gasp in response.
"Stop... please..."
"Not tonight," he growled. "I won't stop."
He didn't give her a chance to refuse. His movements were wild as he stripped away every barrier between them, lifting one of her legs, his hand gripping her enticing, shapely backside, and thrusting into her.
"Ah... it hurts!"
Of course, there was some pain. He hadn't waited for her to become fully ready before he eagerly parted her, and even he found it difficult at first.
But he couldn't focus on that. The pain in his body only heightened his desire, and deep inside, only one thought echoed: he wanted her, he needed her!
Her large eyes, hazy in the mist, her biting lip and the care she couldn't hide even when she tried to look away—everything made him feel proud, an overwhelming sense of self-worth.
All the helplessness and frustration he had could be cast aside, as long as he knew that she loved him.
He lowered his head to kiss her forehead, where the pain had furrowed her brow, and he gently kissed it. He then followed the bridge of her nose with soft, tender pecks, all the way down to her lips, before kissing her again, this time with more passion.
The growing moisture in the air only fueled his excitement, and he began to move, testing the rhythm. When he noticed her gradually matching his pace, he lifted her entirely, her legs wrapped around his waist, while his heated kisses trailed over her collarbone and the sensitive spot behind her ear. Feeling her tremble beneath him, he grew even more intense.
"Don't worry about your injury, just focus on me…" he murmured.
"Concentrate, hold me tight!"
Sophia's voice, soft and delicate, now sounded almost like a moan, while Capone's voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper. Their bodies intertwined in stark contrast—softness and hardness, both so vividly distinct.
"Mmm…" Sophia tilted her head back, the intensity of his movements quickening. Standing like this, the sensation was so deep, she felt as though she was completely filled, with no space left, and she couldn't bear it.
"Can you let me down for a moment? You shouldn't push so hard with your injury… Mm…"