His Coy Lover

Zelda: “Charles, I’m a woman. It’s not appropriate for me to help you bathe, right?”

Charles snorted, “You are my wife, what’s wrong with that?”

“In that case, I’ll comply with your wishes.”

Zelda happily responded and pushed him forward again.

Sensing her happiness, Charles turned his head and looked at her several times. At first, she seemed frightened, so how did she turn so happy in the blink of an eye?

This woman changes so quickly, much like him, capricious!

Back in the room, Zelda cheerfully entered the bathroom, prepared the bathwater for Charles, and couldn’t help humming a little tune, anticipating the sight of a handsome man bathing.

Charles, hearing the tune from the bathroom, furrowed his brows.

“Charles, I’ve prepared the bath for you.”

Zelda turned to see him, smiling sweetly.

Charles remained silent, quietly maneuvering his wheelchair into the room. Once inside, his darling wife unceremoniously began stripping off his clothes, and her beautiful eyes sparkled with a different light.

“Charles, your muscles are really firm.”

Taking advantage of the opportunity to undress him, Zelda unabashedly explored every inch of his upper body.

Charles: … He felt like he was being slaughtered, not scared away as he expected.

When her delicate hands reached his pants, intending to undo his belt, Charles grabbed her hands. Soft, petite, and good to the touch.

Charles told himself that he held onto her hands not out of greed but to prevent her from undressing him.

“Charles?”

Zelda, stopped in her tracks, looked at Charles in confusion.

“I’ll wash myself; you can go out.”

Charles released her hands, his tone cool: “Close the door on your way out.”

“Charles, your mobility is limited. Let me take care of you. There’s no need to be shy; we’re a married couple, the closest people to each other.” Zelda, pretending to undress him again, was caught by him before she could proceed.

He had a serious face, and his tone became even more stern.

“Zelda, I told you to leave!”

Zelda withdrew her hands, exclaimed, and then reluctantly left, closing the door behind her.

Once the door closed, Zelda chuckled while covering her mouth. “Trying to tease me?”

She wondered who was at a disadvantage now.

When Charles emerged from the bathroom, Zelda was half-lying on the bed, holding a plate of fruit and enjoying it thoroughly. Seeing Charles, she smiled and asked, “Charles, do you want some fruit?”

Charles ignored her, occupied with pushing his wheelchair over.

Sensibly, Zelda hopped off the bed, placed the unfinished plate of fruit on the bedside table, and tried to help Charles onto the bed, but he refused.

Watching him struggle to sit on the bed, Zelda felt sorry for him. She suggested, “If you persist with rehabilitation and practice walking more, you’ll recover. Sitting in the wheelchair all the time will make your muscles atrophy.”

Charles continued to ignore her, lying down on the bed.

Zelda pursed her lips, observing him for two minutes before shamelessly approaching him with a playful smile. “Charles, are you still angry with me? I admit I used to like Burton, but that’s in the past. Now, I don’t like him anymore; I only like Charles.”