Harry poked his small head out, eyeing her, then let out a loud howl in her direction. This sound was brimming with attempted intimidation, as if retaliating for how she had frightened him moments before. The tabby stripes on his head looked quite majestic, making him resemble a proud little tiger.
Sophie Sullivan listlessly rubbed her cheek against the silky pillow. "Young Master, is something wrong?"
Does he need a reason to find her? What kind of logic is that! Thomas Shannon's handsome face darkened. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing one hand on her forehead to check her temperature.
"Take the medicine before you sleep."
"Where's the medicine?" Sophie closed her eyes wearily.
"On the bedside table. Get it yourself."
Sophie faintly opened her eyes, her hoarse voice holding a hint of playful protest. "Young Master, I'm a patient."
The implication was clear: shouldn't he take care of a patient? For example, by pouring water and giving her the medicine?
