"Don't move."

He looked at me as excited as if he was something, and I didn't want to thank him for what he said coldly.

I stood there dumbfounded, his shirt ripped by him, hanging like a tree bark.

In addition to the white hood on his chest to cover the accidental leakage of a large chunk of spring light, especially his staring straight at me made me want to find a crack in the ground to get into.

"Your own life matters, your own life matters..."

I kept telling myself in my heart that I was deceiving myself that it would be better to be a doctor, and in the eyes of doctors, there were only patients without gender.

As a girl, the original shyness really made me subconsciously want to cover it with my hands, especially under his cold gaze, he looked at it like a worm crawling.

I didn't quite hypnotize myself, and then simply closed my eyes and didn't look at it.

After half a bang, he slowly reached out and picked my clothes open, and then my hand made me shudder when it touched the scratch under my collarbone.

There was no warmth in his hands, and more instinctive reactions were because of such a secret place, not to mention that the opposite sex had touched it, and he hadn't even seen it.

He really couldn't put into words how he felt when he touched it.

"Does it hurt?" He said coldly.

I opened my eyes to see that he was looking up at me, my face flushed like drunk, already a little messy, nodding and shaking my head.

"You won't be poisoned! Can it be cured!? ”

I'm a little nervous, after all, corpse poison sounds scary, and I'm really afraid that I will be caught like a zombie on TV and end up being a zombie.

Still calm, he said, "I'll take a look." ”

Then, his hand touched lightly beside the scratch, and seeing his meticulous appearance, I first noticed that he had a different kind of charm when he became serious.

But soon I stopped thinking so.

You check it out, but my wound is next to the left collarbone, what does it mean that your hand is slowly moving down!?

The fingers were as cold as a clear spring, as if teasing, and when they were about to touch the lump of meat on the left, they pressed down slightly.

Fog grass...

Are you kneading plasticine?

Just when he was about to gently pick open the cover inside, I really couldn't accept it, I glared at him, "Have you checked it?" ”

Looking up at my blushing and angry face, he smiled and pressed his hand to the wound.

There were no herbs, and in a few moments I felt a cool breath pass through the tips of his long, cold fingers, and melt down his fingers into the wound on my collarbone.

The ice was cold, as if he had put a piece of ice on it, but this feeling lasted for a long time and he didn't let go.

Makes me wonder if he deliberately pressed his hand in that place.

"Can you do it!?"

I was a little unsettled, and the cold made me feel a little uncomfortable, and even spread to my neck, and I felt like I was about to be frozen.

He was fine, but he didn't care at all, he raised his eyebrows when he heard my words, and his lips hooked lightly at me, "What do you mean?" ”

Nima.

His hand was still pressed against my collarbone, but in fact, because the palm was slender and wide, it had already reached the place on my chest, and the key point was that he made me confused.

It's really a bone surprise, are these brain circuits so strong!?

I took a deep breath, glanced at him and sneered, "I don't think you can do anything." ”

He raised his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth twitched playfully, "Do you want to try it?" ”