A single sentence made Marcus Sharp's whole body tense up.
He bowed his head, staring at the person beneath him, the darkness in his eyes surging, his voice already hoarse to a degree, "Are you serious?"
Ellie Doyle kept her eyelids low, her blinking eyelashes still dotted with rainwater. She pressed her face tightly against Marcus's, rubbed it gently, and did not respond.
The heat from her cheeks made him pause.
Pulling away from her embrace, Marcus placed his palm on her forehead, frowning, "You're a bit warm, stay here, I'll go get an umbrella."
"Don't go," Ellie's voice carried a hint of pleading as she stared hollowly at him, "Stay with me for a while, please, just for a while."
Marcus paused, studying the emotion in the depths of her eyes. He tenderly wiped her cheek with his palm, "You're off today."
"There's nothing wrong, I'm just tired," Ellie said, placing her hand over her eyes. With each breath she took, her heaving chest rose and fell.