Francis Evans and a few n exchange glances, uncertainly asking, "Is this love?"
...
Arnold Simmons dropped the person off at the entrance of the residential area; the whole trip took less than ten minutes since the residential area is just across the street.
He suddenly felt that his idea of sending her ho just now was sowhat unnecessary.
But Hannah didn’t think so. She stood at the entrance without going in, looking up at Arnold standing nearby.
Under the light, the young man’s facial features appeared especially profound and three-dinsional, with a smooth jawline and a long neck, and a faintly visible cold clavicle line.
"Do you like watching that much?"
The young man’s lazy tone fell in her ears, carrying a slightly warm breath. He was leaning over, and his shadow almost completely enveloped the petite person in front of him.
Hannah was startled by this sudden proximity and subconsciously tried to step back, but accidentally stepped on a pebble on the ground.
She didn’t fall but was instead pulled close by the young man.
"Really got you staring." He seed to chuckle lightly, his voice low and deep.
Hannah was just distracted for a mont. She looked up eting those dark, heavy eyes and pursed her lips, "I wasn’t looking."
As if to prove herself, she didn’t shift her gaze away, sowhat stubbornly.
Arnold curved his lips, drawing out his intonation, leisurely saying, "Alright, you weren’t looking."
His tone sounded annoyingly smug.
Hannah tightened the grip on her backpack strap, hesitated for a while but still asked, "Were you guys about to fight?"
Arnold raised an eyebrow, "Who told you?"
"I guessed." Because that’s what everyone in school says.
They say Arnold is a bad student, often mingling with people outside the school, always carrying injuries on his body from fights.
His deanor is dark and somber, sowhat like a fierce watchdog abandoned by the roadside.
Of course, mostly because...
Hannah t Arnold’s eyes, filled with a hint of amusent, as if having a lot to say but it all turned into silence.
"So you think I’m a bad person?" He looked at her with a smirk, his lazy tone containing a bit of exclamation, "Would a bad person walk you ho?"
Hannah shook her head, "I never thought that."
She softened her voice, closer now, sounding almost coquettish.
Arnold lowered his gaze, unintentionally glimpsing an inch below her neck, a fine and snow-white patch; his gaze paused and then slowly moved away.
He retracted his smile, his eyes revealing an innate indifference, "Go ho, it’s late."
His tone was light.
"Are you mad?" Hannah tilted her head to see his eyes beneath the brim of his cap.
Arnold deliberately avoided looking at her, "Not mad."
"Really?" Hannah pursed her lips, her cheeks still slightly chubby, slightly puffed.
Arnold stayed silent.
Hannah could only say: "Then I’m going ho."
"Mhm."
Hannah walked a few steps away and then turned back to look.
Arnold was still standing in the sa spot, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone, as if he was talking to soone, continuously watching in her direction.
He wanted to make sure she made it ho safely.
Hannah waved at him, smiling happily.
But Arnold’s gaze could only see a person hopping happily under the street light.
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
At the other end of the phone, Francis Evans imdiately noticed, "Arnold, what are you laughing at?"
He returned to his usual stern coldness in a second, "Nothing."
Francis Evans: "..." He clearly heard it.
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