17- He bleed to death

After much time later...

Clara went to the restroom side, excusing herself after Steven introduced her to his royal friends.

"She looks like loving you," one of the men dictated.

Steven remained quiet as another man, whose glamourous eyes were judging Steven, declared, "It would be a surprise if only she didn't have feelings for him."

Steven offered a brief smile before sipping alcohol.

"I agree with you, Wasley. But what is the use of this handsome? He had never slept with the woman." Another man mocked Steven.

Steven sighed, saying, "Enough with your teasing."

At the time, Wasley's glance was attracted by a beautiful young woman, who did step on his boots accidentally.

It was Abby. She quickly proceeded to apologize, "Oh my god, I'm sorry."

As everyone was stunned by her beauty, Steven expressed confusion.

"You look beautiful, young lady," Wasley complimented her instead of yelling.

Abby smiled a bit and walked off of them.

"She looks much prettier than Clara, isn't she?" Wasley asked Steven.

Steven blinked without knowing how to respond to it. All his thoughts mumbled with was, "What is she doing here?"

"Did you find anyone here?" Annie approached Abby when she was about to pick up the alcohol.

"They look good, but their flirting way is clingy," Abby said, feeling disappointed and taking back her hand from getting hold of the alcohol.

As both of their disgruntled looks browsed all around the hall, Wasley came into their sight line and earned their confliction-edged eyebrows.

"Hi, beauty!" Wasley extended his hand towards her, providing a cool smile.

"Let's see if he will win this time." Steven's friends watched him while Steven was portraying a proud face, thinking, "Nothing will work on her."

"If you don't mind, can I have your number, please?" Wasley appealed without hesitation.

"He looks good. Say okay! Say okay!" Annie whispered in Abby's ear, forcing her.

"Okay!" Abby responded without a doubt.

Steven choked up and spilt alcohol that struck in between his throat. With shock, Steven glared at Abby, scolding inside his thoughts, "How can she give her number to a stranger like this?"

"He got that woman! No wonder he's a Playboy." His friends praised him in an envious tone.

Steven waited with tension until Wasley returned to their table. "She's so hot; look at her curves... Oh, my eyes!" Wasley described her sexually, which peaked Steven's irritation.

Steven took four shots of alcohol straight without braking and excused himself from them as his friends were swelled with possession upon Wasley.

Going upstairs, he dialed to Abby. She attended it expectedly.

"Come and meet me at the rooftop!" He normally said it, but his expression behind the phone was extremely mad.

As soon as Abby came, Steven dragged her and pinned her to the wall, scattering a furious glare. He queried, "Why did you give him your number?"

"Why should I tell you?" Abby interrogated. Yet her confusion over his unreasonable madness didn't fade away.

"Don't go anywhere with him," he strictly ordered her, releasing her.

"I will!" She voiced casually and walked past him.

Steven gripped her wrist and earned her attention again. Her round eyes shone, enunciating her annoyance, which worsened his tension.

He clenched his jaw, saying, "You have no idea how terrible a male is."

"So what? After all these for...." Abby dithered to be open up to him.

"For?" Steven flashed curiosity.

"It's my personal!" She firmly said and shook his hand. However, Steven ended up freezing when he read her voice, "I just want to know how it will feel."

Just when Abby was about to leave the rooftop, he pulled her by the waist, twirled her around towards him, and gazing into her choleric eyes, he proposed, "As your husband, I will let you know how it will be. Don't go after random strangers."

"What?" Abby was lost for words, realizing he read her mind just now. Her blushed cheek and often blinking eyes portrayed her embarrassment. Flaring a disgusted face, she shoved him away and scolded him, "Keep your distance from me, pervert!"

Her shove wasn't enough to move him. That didn't even shake him because his firm muscles were tensed to obey the force.

"Where did Mr. Steven go?" Clara returned and searched for Steven all around the hall.

Steven's friends showed her the way upstairs.

"Why is it hard for you to be fucked by a husband but okay with strangers?" Steven talked informally and deliberately. His fuming eyes fixed on hers.

"Watch your tone, Steven!" Abby roared.

Steven breathed out outrage, "They aren't good people. If you want to feel that badly, let me do it for you. Don't chase random men."

"Why did he go rooftop out of the blue?" Clara voiced weary, gasping, stopping in halfway since her dress was too heavy to carry along with her.

"We didn't come under any rules except you should act like husband when my father sees us and I should wear your ring. I hope you will remember that." Abby jogged his mind.

Exasperation rented his face. He couldn't help but cupped her chin and clutched her upper lips as if he longed for it. She pressed her palms against his chest, applying force as much as possible, hoping he would leave her since she couldn't digest his warm lips, which sucked hers wildly without even giving her a chance to catch her breath.

Her breath stuck.

"Leave me!" She screamed inside her thoughts.

Steven stomped his feet solidly on the ground, inhaling pleasure by sucking her lips intensively wherever she twisted them to escape from him.

Her anger grew bigger, and a sparkle of bluish-red glittery formed in that dragon ring. Within a second, it shone bright along with the pressure she forced on his chest, causing him to be shoved away.

"Ahh!!!" Steven screamed as Abby panted hard, opening her eyes only to find blood gushing out from Steven's palm, which was pierced by a sharp edge of the thing that had been on the floor.

"Steven!!" Clara fluttered, approaching him.

She tore off the bottom of the dress immediately and wrapped it around his bloodied palm as Steven groaned in pain while Abby scoffed, thinking, "He can cure it by himself. See! He is acting."

Abby left as Steven's vision went blurry, which wasn't even helpful to see clearly in Abby's absence and Clara, who was sobbing with concern.

He grasped Clara's wrist and asked in a low, breathless voice, "Leave, Clara."

Shedding tears, Clara tried to make him stand up.

Everything that did him was worse only. Blood kept flowing out of his palm, drenching her clothes that had been wrapped around it.

Poor Abby had no idea that he should rely on someone if he wanted to use the healing power.

As guilty piercing his leisurely beating heart, he raised his fingers to get a braze of Clara's hands. However, Abby's lustful gaze, which mellowed his heart that night while he abandoned his dick for the ring, flickered in front of his eyes and halted him from using Clara to get a cure himself.

So he dropped his wounded hand, hopelessly closing his eyes.