My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

Chapter 677: Let Me Do it

Clarence's eyes darkened as he realized his physical state.

His left arm had a deep and long cut, his back was somewhat fractured, and he had minor injuries on his leg. Other parts of his body were also injured.

It was just as he had predicted.

His modified vehicle shielded him from lethal damage falling from such a great height.

Furthermore, he was not wearing his seat belt and instead shielded Florence in his arms. As a result, he absorbed all of the injuries.

Clarence endured all the pain in quiet and reassured her, saying, "It's okay, don't cry."

He rubbed her on the back and said, "Did you get hurt? Let me have a look."

Florence nodded and shook her head the next second, sobbing.

She was perplexed.

Clarence's expression was solemn as he looked at her.

"Come on, get up, and let me have a look." He urged gently.

His voice was soothing.

Florence wept and slowly rose from his chest, her hands clinging to his shirt as if they would be separated if she let go. Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Clarence couldn't see her face in the complete darkness, but he was certain she was crying now.

It hurt him simply thinking about her sad face.

"Turn the button on your watch three times, and it will turn on the torch," he whispered softly.

His watch had a feature similar to this, but he couldn't use it because his left hand was seriously wounded.

Florence followed without hesitation.

Clarence had put this watch on her before they departed, something she rarely did.

She assumed it was simply for telling time if the phone ran out of power; she had no idea it also had a torch built-in.

The torch was soon lit.

When it was rotated to the third frame, it transformed into a tiny light bulb that lighted the surroundings.

Florence was able to see properly inside the car because of the lights.

Unlike before, the car was now a shambles, with shattered windows and items scattered around.

The car was of high quality, and the windows were not broken despite the scratches.

The car was buried in snow, and the snowdrifts outside obstructed their vision.

The rear seat where Clarence currently leaned on was sunken and he was on that spot.

The deep-set might have formed when they fell and hit hard on Clarence.

Otherwise, he wouldn't be leaning in that direction by chance.

His left arm was completely drenched in blood.

His face was pale and he appeared weary.

Florence couldn't help but cry again when she saw him in this state.

Her heart felt like it was weighing a thousand pounds.

How did he become so badly hurt?

"The wound hasn't been treated yet; once the bleeding stops, everything will be okay; it's not that bad."

Clarence replied calmly as he gently pushed himself up with his right arm.

He was moving slowly, which was unusual for him.

Florence was brought to tears when she saw him like this and instantly reached in to assist him up.

She felt as though she were suffocated and couldn't say anything.

After sitting up, Clarence appeared paler. "Please bring the first aid kit, Florence," he requested softly.

They had packed two first-aid kits for emergencies, one of which was placed behind the seat.

Florence swiftly grabbed for it and extracted bottles for wound cleansing and bleeding control. She was now well-versed in first-aid methods.

Clarence, on the other hand, examined her from head to toe to ensure she was not injured, asking, "Are you hurt?"

"No, not even a little bit," Florence said, shaking her head.

If she was wounded, she knew he'd insist on treating her first.

Clarence felt better and carefully removed his suit from his left arm.

As he moved, the blood flowed out. The white shirt beneath had ripped apart, revealing a visibly lengthy wound on his arm. The reddish-white shirt, the skin, and the wound had all been messed up.

Florence broke into tears once more.

It hurt her more than she hurt herself.

Clarence, on the other hand, remained quiet, as if he had lost his ability to sense pain. He ripped apart the garment in an instant, along with the skin that had become attached to it. Immediately, blood flowed out.

Florence inhaled deeply and wiped away her tears.

How could he have handled such a terrible wound in such a cruel manner?

She couldn't say anything.

Clarence didn't even flinch, instead, turning to Florence, who was carrying the first aid kit, and saying, "Give me the medication."

That meant he desired to treat the wound himself.

It would be inconvenient for him to treat such a terrible wound on his own, and he would be in pain. It was difficult to endure the discomfort while treating the wound.

Florence's heart was pounding. "Let me do it," she replied, gritting her teeth as she clutched the medication and cotton bud in her hands.

She appeared frightened, but she resolutely suppressed her dread and grief.

It was not the time for sorrow. Clarence needed her right now, so she had to be strong. He was severely hurt, and she refused to be his burden by doing nothing.

Clarence wanted to reject her at first, but when he realized how determined she was, he caved.

He didn't want her to be unhappy by looking at his wound and treating it; he knew it would make her sad.

Meanwhile, she was concerned about him as well.

It would hurt her even more if she had to see him treat the wound on his own.

Suddenly, silence filled the air, and none of them spoke.

Florence struggled to keep her hands from trembling as she carefully applied the medications to his wound.

She wasn't properly trained, but she did her best not to hurt him in the process.

It was a torturous procedure.

Florence's forehead was flooded with sweat after a while when she successfully bandaged Clarence's injured arm.