"How are you? Still feeling uncomfortable?" He supported himself on one side of her body with one arm and used his other hand to brush her hair from her forehead.
Emma Benson blinked in surprise and looked at him, "Did I...come home?"
She thought she was dreaming; she did not expect to have returned to Zois.
"Confused by the illness?" Walter Schmidt curled his lips; from last night until now, it was the first time the man had smiled.
Emma Benson frowned, her head still dizzy, uninterested in answering him. She closed her eyes, tried to raise her hand, but found herself weak all over.
"How come? Still uncomfortable?" The man's heart sank, his handsome face darkened. He placed his large hand on her face and her body, feeling she didn't have a fever, but his sharp brows furrowed even more tightly.
"Emma, speak up. Where exactly are you uncomfortable?" He became anxious, gently lifting her into his arms, his large hand caressing her pale little face.
