"Me?!"
"Yeah, if not you, then who?" Phoebe moved the spoon closer to her mouth, "Hurry up and eat, it'll get cold soon."
Fifteen swallowed the porridge from the spoon, her gaze fixated on the bite marks on his arm.
From the marks, it was clear that they were two neat rows of small teeth.
"When did I bite you?"
"You had a fever and couldn't be given an anesthetic, so I held you down to keep you from moving. Originally, I wanted you to bite a towel, but... you took my arm for a towel! Despite being small, your teeth are quite sharp!"
His arm was very fair, making the bite marks particularly noticeable.
In a few spots, blood had already clotted, resembling tiny red pearls embedded there.
Fifteen's heart suddenly filled with guilt.
He cared so much for her, yet she misunderstood him entirely over a single sentence. Truly foolish.
"Hey, little girl, not eating, what are you thinking?"
