She sneered, “Spare me your feigned concern. It’s nauseating.”
His brow furrowed, Mitchel muttered, “Don’t be so ungrateful.”
Grimacing due to her sore throat, Raegan shot back, “Yes, I’m ungrateful. If you can’t stand me, then leave.”
The room tensed.
The door swung open. It was Matteo, bearing breakfast.
The tension in the room nearly froze him in his tracks. Matteo quickly set down the tray, mumbling, “Please eat something.”
Matteo exited hastily.
Mitchel, however, remained. He unpacked the breakfast, setting a small table before saying, “Have some.”
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Raegan remained unmoved as if she hadn’t heard him. She turned her face away and didn’t look at him.
Spoon in hand, Mitchel scooped up some porridge and fed it to her lips. He commanded, “Eat it.”
But Raegan kept her mouth shut, her eyes even closing.
Mitchel scoffed.
“Is there another way you’d like to be fed?”
Raegan was bewildered.
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Why did it matter to Mitchel whether she ate or not? It wasn’t that she refused to eat. His presence was what made her lose the mood to eat.
“You…”
Before she could even utter the word “leave,” her words were stifled by his Lips.
Mitchel ki*sed her softly as if taking into account the discomfort in her mouth, He was gentle this time.
Nevertheless, this action brought back memories of their earlier activities in the bathroom, filling Raegan with revulsion. Reacting on impulse, she flung the hot porridge at him.
Mitchel grimaced as the scalding porridge hit him and quickly detached his lips from hers.
Just when Raegan assumed he’d explode with anger, he restrained himself, opened another carton of porridge, and said icily, “Eat.
Otherwise, I’ll feed you the way I just did.”
Raegan was at a loss.
His current behavior seemed absolutely irrational to her.