Capone's hand grasped hers, holding it in his palm. "Silly girl, I'm not afraid, so why are you? The bullet has to come out. You wouldn't want to see my arm become useless, would you? If it does… I won't be able to hold you anymore!"
Sophia pouted and swatted his hand away. "You're still joking at a time like this!"
But he was serious, and he knew she understood that.
"It's okay, let's get this over with! There are only a few supplies on the ship, so don't waste them; we have plenty of alcohol, so feel free to use it! Don't worry, I'm not as afraid of pain as you think!"
Capone handed her the knife, and her hands trembled a bit. She covered him with the shirt he had taken off and handed him a sleeve. "If it hurts a lot, bite down on this!"
Capone chuckled. "Where did you learn that?"
"It's how they do it on TV!"
He gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "It's fine, let's begin!"
Sophia washed her hands with vodka, carefully rinsing the sharp knife several times. After disinfecting his wound with a cotton ball, she finally dared to touch the flesh with the blade.
Her heart raced as if it were about to leap out of her chest, and her throat tightened uncomfortably. Meanwhile, the man biting down on the fabric appeared surprisingly calm.
It sounded simple, but it took all her courage and strength to cut open the wound. Blood surged out, and she felt him instinctively tense up; she was terrified and wanted to cry but couldn't. Tears blurred her vision, making it difficult to help him remove the bullet.
"Just hold on a little longer; it'll be over soon!" she whispered soothingly, noticing beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. In truth, she wasn't doing much better; she was drenched in sweat as well.
He had said he wasn't afraid of pain—who could possibly be unafraid of pain?
She carefully peeled back the layers of skin, aware that the bullet wasn't very deep, but it required extreme patience and precision.
If only Cronus were here; he was a surgeon, after all. Or Diana—she would surely have a better way to handle this. She even regretted not studying medicine and becoming a doctor.
The pastry-making skills she was proud of had turned into a butcher's art in this critical moment.
The bullet was finally out, and Sophia's hands were covered in blood. Capone leaned against the wall, his breathing heavy and rapid, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
He didn't cry out; at his most painful moments, he merely let out muffled groans, biting down hard on the sleeve.
Sophia trembled as she cleaned his wound again, applying the medicine and bandaging it, already feeling weak. She looked up at Capone; his eyes lacked their usual cold arrogance and dominance, resembling a wolf king returned to its youth, filled with a helpless, clear light.
She felt wronged, frightened, and pained. Without overthinking, she pulled the fabric from his mouth and leaned down to kiss him.
Their kisses were usually initiated by him—sucking, licking, tracing her lips, prying open her teeth—but today it was she who took the lead, imitating his actions, kissing him tenderly as she offered him silent comfort.
She had never realized his lips could be so dry, and he must have bitten his tongue while enduring the pain, as she tasted the metallic tang of blood when she took his lips in her mouth.
As their breathing gradually calmed, she pulled away and softly asked, "I'm sorry, does it hurt a lot?"
Before he could answer, she burst into tears.
Today had truly been overwhelming with too much fear and stimulation.
Capone used his uninjured hand to press her head against his chest, gently stroking her hair. "It's okay, don't cry, it's okay…"
Thus began their harrowing days adrift at sea, the two of them huddled together, neither daring to speak first, afraid to break the rare tranquility.
Gurgle, gurgle—
In the silence, the sound of a hungry stomach was particularly loud. Sophia felt embarrassed and quickly sat up, hugging her belly.
"Are you hungry? There's food and water below, but it's all canned, so we'll have to make do!" Capone also sat up.
"No, no! You stay here and rest! I'll go get it!"
Capone looked up at the window, and Sophia understood immediately. "Oh, that's no problem for me! When I was little, I used to climb all over the place, even up trees!"
She wasn't boasting; being the only girl in her family with no sisters, she was influenced by her several brothers and had often run wild. Her lively personality was shaped during those times.
She pushed against the window and jumped out. Perhaps because she was wearing multiple layers of clothing, Capone watched nervously, fearing she might accidentally fall into the sea. Fortunately, she landed steadily.
Capone closed his eyes. Taking out the bullet had indeed consumed a lot of his energy, and he needed to rest.
"Ah—"
Sophia's heart-wrenching scream came from the lower cabin, and Capone jolted awake, grabbing the gun beside him before rushing out the window.
His heart sank; had Sophia encountered a trap set by Lucas again? But he had checked carefully when he came out earlier, and there was no one else on the ship, nor any explosives or traps.
Sophia stood in the lower cabin, holding a stick she had grabbed to poke at the boxes. Upon seeing him enter, she immediately leaped into his arms.
"What's wrong?"
"Rats! There's a rat!"
Sophia was shaking in fear, and Capone let out a sigh of relief. "You're scared of a little rat?"
"Not a little rat! It's a big one! I'm terrified of rats… Ah—there it is! Over there!"
Sophia screamed, practically clinging to Capone, her feet leaving the ground.
He found it both amusing and helpless; he hadn't heard her scream so loudly even when he used to bully her.
He stepped forward, grabbing some drinking water and food, and pulled Sophia back into the cabin, opening a can and handing it to her. "Hurry up and eat; aren't you hungry?"
Sophia pouted slightly, looking up at him with a secret glance. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to! Is your wound torn again? Let me help you change the bandage!"
She noticed the bright red blood seeping through the gauze and felt utterly useless.
"It's fine!" Capone stopped her. "Supplies are limited; we have to conserve them. Wounds will bleed at first, but it will be fine by tomorrow!"
"Okay!"
The two of them ate in silence. The compressed food and canned goods didn't taste great, but thinking about other things made the taste less significant to them.
Sophia felt a bit anxious about their current silence. In the past, they could go days without speaking when they were bickering, and living under the same roof didn't feel strange at all.
But now, when they didn't talk, every minute became agonizing.
She wiped her mouth and recalled all the kisses they had shared since boarding the ship. When their lips touched, it felt as if they fused into one.
In the second before she thought the bomb would explode, had Capone whispered three words to her? What were those three words?
Were they what she imagined?
"That water can is the one I drank from!" Capone reminded her casually, and Sophia realized she had absentmindedly picked the wrong one.
"Sorry…"
"What's up with you today? You keep saying sorry; it's not like you! And you're getting all red; are you running a fever?"
Capone teased her deliberately, though he knew better than anyone that she was clearly shy.
"I'm really sorry. I'm afraid of mice, and I hurt your wound. We're stuck here together..." Some things weren't her fault, but they happened because of her.
"It's not your fault. The grievances between Lucas and me will eventually have to be clarified!"
"Okay!" Sophia took a sip of water, lowering her head in hesitation. "Um, what did you just say to me?"
Capone was caught off guard. "What did I say?" Did he say something just now?
"You know, when the bomb was about to explode, you... right before you kissed me, what did you say?"
Finally asking the question made Sophia's face turn as red as a tomato.
Capone cleared his throat, a flicker of discomfort passing across his face. "Nothing, you heard wrong!"
Sophia looked up at him, but his face was turned toward the window, hiding his expression. She anticipated that he wouldn't admit it, but hearing him deny it outright left her feeling disappointed.
Maybe she really did hear it wrong. In such a critical moment, being too eager could create some illusions...
Noticing Sophia's silence, Capone realized that the joy he had just seen in her was now completely gone.
He wanted to move closer and hold her, but he accidentally tugged at his wound, the sharp pain making him frown.
"What's wrong? Is your wound hurting again?" Seeing his expression, Sophia rushed to his side.
"Yeah!" He replied vaguely, leaning against the wall of the cabin. He didn't like seeing her frown and cry, but he enjoyed seeing her worry about him—eager and somewhat at a loss.
She moved in close, unbuttoning his shirt to take another look at his wound. Normally, she would blush when she saw him undressing, but today she was so proactive, and seeing him shirtless didn't make her uneasy at all; it was quite rare.
"Fortunately, it's not bleeding anymore. You should lie down and rest! After a sleep, it won't hurt so much!"
Seeing Capone not responding, just staring at her with bright eyes, she tilted her head. "What's wrong? Can't sleep because of the pain? Or are you cold?"
She took off her scarf, neatly folded it, and placed it on the ground. "Use this as a pillow; it won't be so cold!"
Capone's gaze grew fervent, like coffee kept warm in a pot. Originally smooth and quiet, something pressed the heat button, and steam began to rise, bubbling and boiling over.