HIS LOVE "A Sequel to HER WORTH" ✓

44~Can you not hate me now that I'm dead?

The hospital bed is narrowly designed obviously for one person as the bed space could hardly contain two people, but Najib and Hanan had perfectly squeezed themselves into the bed.

"Come here." He says reaching his hands to her.

"Where?" She replied, staring at his stretched-out hands.

"The bed, join me." He says further, patting the little space left by his side, and it made her chuckle.

"Don't worry about me, I will manage on the chair."

The only four-legged chair available in the room.

"But that's uncomfortable to sleep on, I insist you join me." He says.

"It will be discomforting Najib, the space is too small for two people."

"You can lay on me...

"Heh...?" Hanan gasped, her voice trailing off while she bit in a little laugh. She glanced around, checking like she could see more people in the room, but it was just the both of them.

"Are you shy?" He smirked observing her face now bowed down to her hands. She was busy playing with her fingers while she remained seated in her chair.

"Why would I be shy?" She mumbled close to a whisper.

"Then come, or should I come fetch you?" He asked about leaving the bed when she rushed to her feet.

"No, I will come to you." She says, and though it only takes a few steps to reach his bedside, it took Hanan almost 30 seconds to get to him.

"Najib, we are in a hospital and we can't share a bed." She says, taking her seat beside him, but he simply ignores her words and pulls her to him, her head resting against his chest, his arms fully embracing her while their feet intertwine, she secretly smiles, loving their moment, she finds them cute.

"I don't have a transmissible disease, do I? it's just a mild head Injury so why can't we share a bed?" He says, to which she responds in a low voice.

"Coz we aren't yet married." She whispered so low that he couldn't hear her.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing... And you should be the one laying on me, you are the patient after all." She said while pulling away from his chest, she brings him into her arms.

Cradling his head onto her shoulder, he slid down to her bosom, resting his head there, which made her highly conscious of their intimate contact. She was smiling and blushing as their feet rubbed against each other.

While their toes tickled and played, he wrapped his hands tightly around her waist bringing her closer to him while she crawled her fingers smoothly into his braided locks.

"Why do you braid your hair?" She says what came to her mind.

"You don't like it?" He laughed, and she shook her head, saying no.

"You look better in low cut." She says which made him raise his head to stare at her face for a couple of seconds before laying back.

"Why did you stare at me like that?" She laughed.

"All this while I thought you liked my new hairstyle... But you don't, that's sad. Well, I had a terrible head injury which had to be stitched, leaving a bold scar, so I decided to grow my hair to cover up the scar, and that's how I began to braid." He explained, and she nodded in acknowledgment to all he had said.

"Oh, but how did you get the scar?" She asks.

"Have you heard about my car accident three years back?"