Iris Harris looked at her fingertips in a daze, she had been thinking less and less about Brandan Hyde lately.
Her body slowly began to feel fatigued, she didn’t have much strength to walk, and when death is within reach, a person doesn’t have the mind to think about other things.
The emotions that had struggled, torn her apart, been hated, and been loved, were like the ashes left after a great fire, leaving only wisps of smoke that eventually dissipate.
She was just waiting to die.
Iris Harris thought her heart was calm like still water, yet at this mont, sensing Brandan Hyde’s tears, her serene heart couldn’t help but ripple slightly.
Perhaps she had never seen Brandan Hyde like this before.
This man, always so aloof and cold-hearted, trampling on others’ sincerity casually, how could he possibly cry?
Yet, he did cry.
What had happened?
She knew Brandan Hyde was not behaving normally. He had insisted on keeping her in the hospital initially, and now, inexplicably, he brought her back ho. Although for her now, without a suitable bone marrow, whether in the hospital or here, she was just waiting to die.
Maybe Brandan Hyde thought that keeping her in the hospital could bring him more psychological comfort.
But now, what made him change his mind?
Iris Harris was puzzled, unable to figure it out.
The quilt was very soft, Iris Harris rubbed her face against it, deciding not to think about those things. The air didn’t have the dreary sll of the hospital, making her feel much more comfortable; she was very drowsy.
That night, she had a dream.
The dream was very familiar, from a long ti ago when she was with Brandan Hyde.
It was a midday in midsumr, and the classmates had all gone ho after school, either picked up to have lunch at ho. She lay on her desk, asleep, and the classroom was rarely quiet.
In a daze, soone patted her shoulder.
"Iris Harris, aren’t you going to have lunch?"
She raised her head and saw Brandan Hyde’s face; young and charming, with a lollipop in his mouth, one cheek puffed out.
"No."
Viola Harris had already been picked up, and Mr. Harris had given her lunch money, telling her to buy sothing to eat, but she didn’t feel like it.
"Huh?" Brandan Hyde looked at her in surprise, "Did you eat?"
"...I did." She hesitated for a mont and lied.
"Tsk."
Brandan Hyde glanced at her, reached into his school uniform and rummaged around, pulling out a lollipop, and offered it to her, "Here, for you."
"..."
"Don’t be picky. It’s all I have. Don’t like sweets?"
Iris Harris stared at the lollipop for a long ti before taking it: "No."
She unwrapped it, and the sweet strawberry flavor spread from her tongue. Brandan Hyde sat on her desk, swinging his legs: "Strawberry flavor, do you like it?"
He tilted his head to feel the breeze, and the gentle wind blew by his slightly sun-bleached fringes. The handso face of the young boy seed to glow slightly under the sunlight, and the sweet strawberry aroma overwheld her senses. It suddenly reminded Iris Harris that her liking for strawberries seed to have started from this mont.
She liked candy.
Liked sweets.
Liked strawberries.
Many habits were things he once taught her.
That was the last sumr she rembered, the sound of cicadas and the strawberry scent coming from Brandan Hyde mixed into a morable fragrance, vividly lingering in her mory.
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