WebNovels

Chapter 11 - chapter 11

Xavier moved toward her, grabbing her shoulders with controlled force, setting the inhaler in front of her lips. "One puff. Now," he commanded, his voice cutting through the panic of the room like a knife.

"I don't need it!" she rasped, shaking violently, twisting away. Her hands flailed weakly, but the defiance in her eyes burned hotter than ever. "I… I can do this on my own!"

Xavier's chest tightened with panic. Every second she resisted increased the danger. "You are dying," he said, voice low but lethal. "Do not test me. Now!"

She gasped, wheezing, every breath a sharp, stabbing pain. Her fingers curled around the edge of the bed, holding herself up with trembling strength. "No! I don't need your… your help! Stay away!"

Xavier gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. His hands gripped her more firmly, carefully adjusting her posture so she could breathe into the inhaler. "Enough," he growled, jaw tight. "This is not optional."

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought against him. Her resistance made her hands shake more violently, but she couldn't escape the iron hold. She could feel the cold metal of the inhaler against her fingers as he forced it to her mouth. Her first attempt was clumsy; she coughed violently, sputtering, fighting back tears of frustration and fear.

"Just one puff," Xavier said, his tone dangerously low, almost a growl. "One. Puff."

She wheezed, resisting, trying to pull away, shaking her head with sheer determination. "I… I won't! I can—"

"You will," he interrupted, the word sharp, absolute, leaving no room for debate. He pressed the inhaler to her lips with precise, iron force. She coughed violently again, the taste and sensation harsh in her lungs, lungs that were crying for air but refusing to submit. Her eyes watered, frustration and fear mingling, but she didn't yield.

Xavier's hands were steady, though inside he was panicking. Every cough, every shallow breath made his heart hammer in his chest. He adjusted the angle, coaxing her to inhale properly, forcing the medication deep into her lungs. Her chest heaved violently, trembling with every strained gasp. "Stop! I… I don't need it!" she wheezed, voice raw and defiant.

"You do," he snapped, anger and terror mingling in his voice. "Do not force me to do this again."

The inhaler hissed as the medicine sprayed, and finally, with a violent cough, she managed to take a proper puff. Her chest heaved uncontrollably, shaking from both the force of the medicine and the exertion of resisting. Xavier kept his grip firm, eyes wide with fear, his pulse hammering.

She pulled back slightly, glaring at him, chest heaving, face flushed. "There! That's done!" she rasped, defiance still flaming. "You don't have to… don't care about me! I can—"

"You are lucky to be alive," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "Lucky. One more moment like that, and you won't be so defiant."

Her eyes softened only a fraction as she gasped for air, still trembling, still defiant. She wanted to glare at him, to say she could manage on her own, but her body screamed otherwise. The harsh rasping of her breaths filled the room, every inhalation a reminder of how close she had come to collapse.

Xavier finally released her shoulders, stepping back slightly, hands still trembling from the surge of fear. He ran a hand over his face, jaw tight, breathing fast. "Capisci?" he finally said, the single warning in Italian cutting through the silence, both a caution and a reminder of control. (Meaning: Do you understand?)

She glared at him, chest rising in rapid, uneven breaths. "I… I don't care about your rules," she whispered, defiance simmering even in the fragile aftermath of her struggle.

Xavier's eyes bore into her, a mix of terror, irritation, and an unacknowledged fondness he could not allow himself to admit. He hated how alive her defiance made her, hated how impossible she was to ignore, hated that every second of fear for her life gnawed at him.

She finally settled back, still trembling, chest heaving violently, but alive, her spirit unbroken. Xavier remained close, watching, heart still pounding from the near-disaster, yet unwilling to leave her entirely, his fear tethered him to her.

Jemma slumped back against the headboard, sweat dampening her temples, her breaths ragged but at least fuller than before. Her hands still trembled faintly, but her gaze, sharp and unyielding, never wavered from Xavier. She didn't thank him. She didn't even look relieved.

"You think this makes you some kind of saviour?" she rasped, voice hoarse but steady. "Dragging me back when I could've handled it?"

Xavier's jaw tightened. The urge to yell was almost overpowering, but the memory of her nearly going still only seconds ago made his voice come out deeper, more dangerous. "Handled it?" he repeated, stepping closer until his shadow covered her completely. "You were seconds away from never breathing again."

She tilted her chin up, challenging him, her eyes flashing. "So what? You'd have one less mouth to feed. Wouldn't that be easier for you?"

The words hit him harder than he expected. His jaw twitched, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "Don't you dare think for one second," he said slowly, his voice a low growl, "that I would stand here and watch you die."

Her lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Then why do you treat me like I'm disposable every other day?"

He stared at her, eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched until it was suffocating.

He looked away, ran a hand through his hair as though that might hide the flicker of vulnerability that had slipped through. "You're reckless," he finally said. "You don't think. You push every boundary you find. And one day…" He trailed off, his jaw clenching harder. "One day, you'll push too far."

She gave a humourless laugh, her voice still raw from the struggle. "Maybe I already have."

The tension in the room coiled tighter. Xavier's fingers flexed at his sides; his fear hadn't faded, only buried itself under layers of irritation. He couldn't tell if he wanted to shake her for scaring him or… keep her close enough to never scare him like that again.

"Get some rest," he said finally, though it sounded more like an order than concern.

But Jemma leaned forward slightly, ignoring the strain in her lungs. "Tell me the truth, Xavier. Why do you care? Why didn't you just walk away this morning and let it happen?"

His eyes darkened, that dangerous stillness settling over him again. "Because I couldn't," he said simply, his tone clipped, as if saying more would cost him too much.

Her gaze softened, just for a fraction of a second, before the defiance returned. "Then maybe you're not as heartless as you pretend to be."

He took a slow breath, his expression unreadable. "And maybe you're not as untouchable as you think."

The air between them was thick, almost heavy, each of them refusing to break eye contact. Finally, Xavier turned away

Jemma lay back, her chest still tight, but her mind far more restless than her body. She didn't know if she understood anything at all anymore, not his rules, not his anger, and certainly not the strange, infuriating way he seemed to care but one thing was clear, he wasn't going to kill her, at least, she could stop being so scared around him.

More Chapters