Damaged A Mga Nobela at Kwento

I finally asked. Damien grabbed a sheet of paper from the bedside table, skimming through it. "Uh... it says four broken toes on your right foot, hairline fracture in your right thumb, damaged muscle tissue in your right leg, your calf bone is broken in three places, two bruised ribs, and a bruised lung. Right side." Damn. That was twice as bad as I imagined. "So my right side is broken? Wow." "'Wow' isn't the right word. From now on, you're not allowed to save anyone. No matter what," Damien declared.

My body is numb with worry about what's to come as I hear foorsteps in the hallway and I take a deep breath. Can't show him fear. The door violently swings open and I jump a little before standing as still as I can. My heart is beating a thousand miles an hour as I hear the door slam again. "Do you know bad you just fucked me over?" He says in a deadly low voice. The hair on the back of my neck stand up and I feel tingles all over my body. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU DID!?" "I'm sorry." I whisper and he slams his hand down on the table. "Shut up. You already ruined everything." He says and I hold my breath, too afraid to say anything else.

She asks impatiently. “Damian is lying on his right side. His father is holding him instead of relying upon a traumatic restraining system rendering his right arm inaccessible. His right leg, while accessible, has been damaged by the accident. He has an open wound halfway down his shin and any hit hard enough to split the skin has a high potential to also have a break. His left arm, based on the swelling alone, is broken and circulation to his left ankle has been compromised by your attempt to establish an IV.” “How has it been compromised?” Kim has yet to let go of her attitude.

Smoke drifted through the hall, the metallic tang of overheated circuits thick in the air. Eli coughed. Damian’s arm wrapped around his waist instantly, pulling him close. “You’re hurt,” Damian murmured, brushing his thumb beneath a fresh cut on Eli’s cheek. Eli shook his head. “Barely. You took the worst of it.” Damian didn’t argue—because he knew it was true. His knuckles were bruised and split. A burn streaked across his forearm, still glowing faintly where plasma had grazed him. His breathing was rough, ragged at the edges.

To work together, for my sake. Dawson cried, actual tears. He cursed the goddess for allowing this to happen to me. He begged for help, he begged for my life. Damien looked like a madman, he punched several walls, drawing blood from his hands. I called out to them both, and tried to assure them I was all right. My body was a mess. Broken collarbone, busted eye that looked fused shut. Broken nose, busted lip. Broken leg, several broken ribs. Damn am I even fixable?

He was answered by Brian, Damien cast his eyes back on the doctors waiting for their response. "We warned her, alpha. She was barely injured with small scratches here and there and a minor fracture in her left elbow. It was not a big accident. We warned her but she didn't listen. She made her driver call you in spite of being told she was okay." Damien was not able to digest that he was fooled.

A car accident was unavoidable… He tried to open the door but unfortunately they were all remotely locked including the car windows… He tries to break the window at the driver's side with his elbow but of course it was bulletproof glass and nothing could actually penetrate it.. “Shit!” Damian mumbled when an incoming car ran into his car and this sent his car bouncing and crashing into two other cars…

The pristine walls were splashed with water and torn petals, bleeding a deep, wounded red into the pale wood floors. But none of the physical destruction mattered. Nothing mattered except the man sitting in the dead center of the wreckage. Damian was slumped forward in the heavy leather armchair, his broad shoulders caved inward like a man carrying the crushing weight of a collapsed building. His crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned, ripped at the collar, and entirely ruined. His silk tie was gone. And his hands—his large, beautiful hands that had held her so gently, so reverently that very morning—were dripping with fresh, dark blood. His knuckles were split completely open, the skin torn

He let go instantly, an apologetic look crossing his face. "I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It’s just… a lot has happened over the past week." I swallowed hard. "Damien, I just want to know what happened. Did I hurt anyone?" Damien tensed. He hesitated before reaching for my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. "You… might have hurt a few people when we were trying to calm you down." His gaze dropped, avoiding mine. My stomach twisted. A lump formed in my throat as the weight of his words sank in. I hurt people.

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