Only Wing [ABO] 只翼ABO

Chapter 39 Warm Winter

This year is a rare warm winter.

Until the end of January, the air-conditioning group south of the city arrived in S city. The snow outside the window has been going on for three hours, the roof and canopy have become mottled. The double-glazed windows keep the cold out of the air, but it doesn't seem to stop the color of the snow from spreading around.

White floors, curtains, white beds, and the woman with a pale face.

This is the eleventh day of her coma, with a tube in her mouth and a hanging needle in her hand, lying on the bed, like a prop for a first-aid teaching prop. It can be proved that she still has life, only a life monitoring device on the side, and a catheter with a blood mark deposited under the bed.

The young man sitting beside her was wiping her lips a little bit with a cotton swab or wet her chapped lips with cotton wool. In the waste paper basket at the bedside, cotton and cotton swabs have piled up thick half barrels but he is still repeating and repeating.

He wants to wipe the smell from the woman's mouth. If she is still healthy and awake, she will not be willing to smell this terrible smell from her mouth. Bloody, corrupt...that is, the smell of death.

On the bedside table, there was a bunch of red carnations that had been put on for a long time. They were dark and shrinking, like a heart that was no longer healthy. In the water that has not been changed in the vase for a long time, the stench of plant corruption has also faintly floated.

It’s time to change the water, and the young man thinks. He was ready to stand up, and suddenly a northerly wind blew outside the window and the window creaked. The young man turned his head and was seeing the bunch of red flowers on the bedside table slamming down on the cupboard, and the petals fell apart.

Suddenly, the alarm sound of the ECG monitor sounded in the room.

Chu Jia opened his eyes and heard that the cell phone on the pillow was ringing. He groped and glanced at the screen, only to find out that today is Sunday.

It’s Sunday... that’s it.

Over the years, as long as he temporarily relaxes and gets out of his busy study or work, the nightmare will come to the fore. The content of dreaming is only one kind of.

The night before his mother died.

After the wastebasket on the edge of the bed was full of cotton swabs and cotton, his mother miraculously had a short waking but because of the tube in her mouth, she couldn’t speak. Chu Jia never knew what she wanted to say that night. What is it, but he can never forget that she is staring at him and finally the gentleness in the sight.

Lose that gentle feeling, tearing his heart.

The same nightmare is much more done. Chu Jia also doubts whether he has suffered from post-traumatic psychological disorder syndrome but he never thought about going to the doctor or resorting to drugs to solve it, but in the unconscious situation. He chose a more everyday way to heal.

Quietly, the wooden door in the bedroom was pushed open.

Along with a soft cry, a heavy object jumped to the end of the bed accurately, and then slammed on the stomach with the legs of Chu Jia unscrupulously.

"Amy..."

Chu Jia reluctantly reached out and pushed, surely touched a group of furry and warm things.

This variegated wild cat was two years ago when his students came from the trash can in front of the apartment. It was a nest of four, which is the most naughty one inside. Although Chu Jia also seriously gave it a name, but when it is necessary to call, the most common name is always rushed out.