His Destructive, Toxic Love

Eliza had no clue how long Sam had been washing up. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before she knew it, she'd dozed off for a bit. The familiar yet odd sound of water suddenly stopped, followed by the rustling of clothes. That was when she rubbed her eyes and looked towards the bathroom door.

As the light in the bathroom clicked off, the door creaked open... A tall man stepped out, now in clean work clothes. His hair, which had been hanging in front of his face, was pushed back, revealing his true appearance.

Eliza's eyes widened, a jolt of shock running through her like electricity, leaving her frozen. She stared at the man, her gaze filled with disbelief and deep confusion. He looked so familiar that it brought tears to her eyes. This wasn't just someone who looked like Casper; it was unmistakably him.

Slowly, she approached him, reaching out to lift his shirt, wanting to check for the knife wound she had inflicted on him back then. If the scar was there, it would confirm that this man was indeed Casper.

Just as her hand was about to touch his shirt, he instinctively stepped back, fear evident in his eyes. He didn't say a word but was visibly tense.

Eliza stopped immediately, stepping back. "Don't be scared. I won't touch you."

She gestured for him to sit down. "Let me take care of the wound on your hand first, okay?"

She coaxed him gently, like calming a child. His eyes on her were completely unfamiliar, yet he obediently sat down.

He opened his palm. It was covered with calluses and bloody blisters, and the skin was punctured and damaged. Casper was a young master who had never had to lift a finger but had now fallen to such a state. It was impossible not to feel moved.

She carefully disinfected his wounds with alcohol and then wrapped them in gauze. "Look at all these blisters on your hand. Doesn't it hurt when you work?" She looked up at his face.

He shook his head, like an innocent child. Who would have thought that a man who once commanded respect in Falconridge and stirred up storms would suddenly become... like this?Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

For a moment, Eliza's heart was filled with mixed emotions. Outside, the rain continued to fall, the drops beating against the windows unabashedly with the autumn breeze. Eliza made him a bowl of pasta. He ate quickly, devouring the food as if he hadn't eaten well in days. She noticed the empty bowl and asked, "Do you want more?" Without looking up at her, he nodded eagerly. So, she served him another bowl.

After he'd eaten his fill, she wondered whether she should send him back home. Casper folded his clothes and found an empty spot on the floor to lie down and sleep. "The floor is cold."

Eliza went back to her room to find him a blanket and a quilt and made a bed for him. She watched him gradually fall asleep and pondered whether to inform Dillon. But even if Casper returned to Falconridge, what then? A fool could do nothing and would only become a laughingstock.

If he remained simple-minded forever, without the complexities of love and hate, desires and schemes, and lived purely in some corner of the world... perhaps that wouldn't be so bad.

In the morning, Eliza woke Brock up to wash and get ready. As they

passed the living room, Brock noticed Casper had gotten up and curled up next to the sofa with his head buried in his knees.

"Mom, is that the same man from last night?"

"Yes."

"Why is he sitting on the floor?" Brock blinked his big eyes, asking innocently.

Eliza replied, "He might just be used to sitting on the floor, sweetheart. Now go wash up and brush your teeth." "Okay."

While Brock was taking care of his morning routine, Eliza couldn't shake the thoughts swirling in her mind.