Chapter 1141: Theodore's Change

"Hurts..." Little Bunny cried out in pain. Theodore's roughness made it unbearable. She pushed him away, resisting his intensity. His bite threatened to break her lip, but the harder she struggled, the more frenzied he became. He held her tighter, his behavior far exceeding their previous bathroom encounters.

Finally, with exhausted strength, she shoved him hard, sending him crashing into the wall with a loud thud. She instinctively touched her lips, checking for bleeding. Theodore, however, misinterpreted her action as removing his scent.

"Do you feel nauseous?" he asked abruptly.

Startled, Little Bunny hesitated. To deny the unpleasantness felt dishonest; it was merely habit. She shook her head. "I was checking for blood," she said.

With Theodore, honesty felt impossible. Fear of his retribution fostered insincerity. She comforted herself with the thought that one day he would tire of her.

"Kiss me," Theodore demanded.

She looked at him, surprised. He was usually proactive, taking what he wanted without invitation.

"Didn't you say it wasn't disgusting?" he pressed. "Then kissing me shouldn't be difficult, right?!"

Little Bunny nodded, acquiescing. She would give him what he wanted; eventually, his demands would cease.

She rose, embracing his neck, her tiptoes barely reaching his lips. She closed her eyes, bracing herself, and kissed him, her tongue meeting his.

Theodore felt her initiative, forced though it was. His thoughts, however, drifted to a scene of Little Bunny and Addison kissing, a memory of her responsiveness. He deepened the kiss, needing the stimulation to quell the unpleasant memories.

Passionate sex followed. Afterwards, he carried her to bed. They lay beneath a single blanket. It was 5 AM; dawn approached. Little Bunny, exhausted, waited for Theodore to fall asleep—he usually did quickly—believing that satisfying him prevented further demands.

It took some time. Finally, hearing his even breathing, she quietly rose, slipped into the bathroom, and cautiously turned on the shower at the lowest setting. She showered, changed into clean pajamas—she disliked sleeping in clothes—and returned to bed, sleeping at a distance from Theodore. Unbeknownst to her, he had been awake the entire time, observing.

The next day dawned late for Little Bunny. Noon arrived before she awoke, confirming the time on her phone several times. Relieved to find no messages, she washed up. Opening the door, she was surprised to find Theodore at home, cooking in the kitchen. He seemed clumsy but determined.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," she replied. "Aren't you at work?"

"Hate to see me?" he asked lightly.

She walked to the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Making up for last night," he said casually. "I wanted to cook you lunch, but I'm hopeless in the kitchen. I even burned some things. What a disappointment."

"I'll do it," Little Bunny offered, already donning an apron. She didn't question his sudden urge to cook. It didn't matter.

She cleaned the kitchen and began cooking. Theodore watched, observing her domesticity. Her private self differed greatly from her public persona. She was down-to-earth and practical.

"I heard you like men who can cook," he remarked.

Startled, she didn't understand the question.

"I saw an interview with you last night," he explained, though he had actively sought it out. "The host asked about your ideal partner."

"Oh," she replied. "It's all scripted. Much of what's on screen isn't entirely truthful; it's prepared for the audience."

"Really?" His gaze remained intense. "I heard Addison's a good cook."

Little Bunny's hand slipped while chopping vegetables, causing a small cut. Theodore swiftly took her hand, examined the wound, and sucked the blood from the cut.

Little Bunny was surprised by his reaction, his concern momentarily shattering his usual indifference. For the first time, she sensed a flicker of genuine feeling in his eyes.