Pampered by My Secret Husband-Chapter 459 - 461: Little maniac, are you okay?
Thomas Shannon gently pinched her chin with one hand. "Had a nightmare, did you?"
Hearing the familiar voice, Sophie slowly came back to her senses. She blinked, clearing the confusion in her eyes.
Her gaze focused, finally settling on his face.
Sophie nodded, her voice as faint as a thread. "...Yes."
That single word alone seemed to drain all the strength from her body.
Tired.
A profound exhaustion permeated her entire body.
A nightmare, another nightmare.
Sophie could no longer remember how many times she had been plagued by nightmares, only to awaken from them.
The terror from the nightmare still clung to her, making her heart palpitate even now that she was awake.
She couldn’t recall any details of the dream—what it contained, or what had happened—only that the fear had surged from the very depths of her heart.
An overwhelming despair consumed her, along with an unbearable pain.
That suffocating oppression, that asphyxiating terror—she never wanted to experience it a second time.
"Maniac, are you okay?"
Thomas Shannon gently stroked her face. Strands of her hair, damp with sweat, clung to her cheeks, leaving her looking utterly disheveled.
Sophie took a deep breath, composing herself. "I’m fine."
"Shall I pour you a cup of water?"
Sophie nodded absently. Thomas Shannon got out of bed, poured a cup of water, and returned to the bedside. Sitting down, he gently drew her into his embrace, holding the water cup to her lips. "Drink slowly."
Sophie’s brain felt muddled as she desperately tried to recall the nightmare’s contents, completely oblivious to the exceedingly gentle tone of Thomas Shannon’s voice just then.
Numbly, she drank the water, sip after sip.
Perhaps she was too lost in thought; a mouthful of water went down the wrong way, and she choked.
She began to cough painfully, her face immediately flushing crimson as tears welled up, filling her eye sockets.
"COUGH, COUGH..."
"Careful." Thomas Shannon immediately set down the water cup and gently patted her back.
His handsome face was stern, the color of his eyes growing even more somber.
Were her nightmares related to her own past, her origins?
He was intensely curious: who on earth hated her so much that they would go to such lengths to destroy her completely?
Sophie, Sophie...
He found himself wanting more and more to know what kind of past she truly had.
Sophie coughed in agony, collapsing weakly into Thomas Shannon’s embrace. Tears suddenly streamed from her eye sockets, leaving long, glistening tracks on her pale face.
Thomas Shannon asked nothing, said nothing; he simply held her quietly.
After a long time, Thomas Shannon finally said gently, "Have you been too stressed recently? Is that why you’re having nightmares?"
Sophie’s expression was weary. "...Perhaps."
Only she herself knew that wasn’t the reason.
She had a vague premonition that these terrifying nightmares were trying to remind her of something.
Nightmares... perhaps they weren’t entirely dreams.
It was highly probable they were things that had actually happened to her...
She had not a shred of memory in her brain about what she had endured, yet the fear these nightmares brought her, compared to the terror her actual experiences must have inflicted, could only be more intense.
Thomas Shannon gently stroked her smooth hair, like one would stroke Harry. "In a few days, I’ll take you out to get your mind off things, hm?"
"...Alright."
Sophie spent most of the late night with her eyes wide open.
Her icy body gradually warmed in Thomas Shannon’s embrace.
The cold sweat stopped. Listening to his strong, powerful heartbeat sound and his light, even breathing sound, the fear in her heart gradually dissipated.
Her heart slowly, gradually, found its peace.
As day broke, she finally closed her eyes.
