Erin said, "My mom gave it to ."
George teased, "Then your mom definitely doesn’t love you."
Erin glanced at him, stood up from the ground, and quietly went back to the easel, picking up the brush to start painting.
"Shorty, go get sothing to eat."
"Why should I?" Erin shot him a cold look.
"Because..." George was caught off guard by his response and, montarily stunned, couldn’t co up with a reason.
Erin withdrew his gaze and began to slowly sar paint on the paper with the brush.
George, having nothing better to do and feeling hungry, could only watch him paint out of boredom.
Thanks to Daisy Ginger, he had learned oil painting for a while, although Robert Stephens felt that painting wouldn’t be of much use to him in the future, so he didn’t pursue advanced lessons. But with those few months of experience, he could sense that Erin was more skilled than the teacher Robert had found.
At the very least, that teacher couldn’t mix such dreamy yet realistic colors...
George watched for a while and, before he realized it, beca genuinely engrossed.
It wasn’t until Erin put down the brush, suddenly stood up from the stool,
and began walking in the direction of the villa without looking at him.
George scratched his head and lay on the ground, too lazy to call after him.
After all... nobody had loved him for a long ti anyway, one more didn’t make a difference.
He drifted into a nap and suddenly felt soone lightly tapping his face. He opened his eyes and saw that Erin had returned at so point, carrying a small basket filled with grilled at and pastries.
"Oh..." He was montarily stunned and muttered, "You didn’t leave. You went to get sothing to eat..."
Erin said nothing, just put the basket aside and suddenly joined him in crawling into the bushes. George was so startled he yelped, "Hey!"
But as soon as he spoke, he felt a lightness on his body and rolled out of the bushes.
Erin stood up, dusted off his clothes, and said to him, "You eat. I’m going to change clothes."
"What’s the point of changing?" George carelessly walked over to the small basket and was about to grab a grilled chicken leg when Erin slapped his hand.
Erin said seriously, "Wash your hands before eating."
George pouted, deliberately being contrary, "Can’t be bothered."
Erin said, "If you don’t wash your hands, I won’t let you eat."
With that, he started to take the basket away.
"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, don’t go. I’ll wash my hands, okay?"
George, seeing that he was really about to take away the food, anxiously grabbed him.
Following Erin’s direction, he went to the lakeside to wash his hands.
Erin put the basket down, glanced at George’s outfit, frowned, and went back to the villa. When he returned, he had changed into a set of new clothes and was holding another set of clothes.
George had already finished eating the at and was now comfortably eating dessert on his little stool. Seeing that Erin had brought a new set of clothes, he couldn’t help but say, "Are you crazy!"
Changing once, and you bring another set!
Erin said, "These clothes are for you to change into."
George was taken aback for a mont, deliberately countering, "I’m not changing. Your clothes are too short!"
"Then I’ll tell the people outside looking for you that you’re here."
Erin threatened expressionlessly.
"You!" George stood up from the stool, snatched the clothes from Erin’s hand, and hid under the shade of a tree, complaining as he walked, "Sneaky shorty!"
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