Before he could finish speaking, his chin was caught by two slender, icy fingers, lightly lifted. He was forced to look up at a face radiating extre beauty.
Luscious red lips seed to emit a faint fragrance. She looked at him and said, word by word, "You call sister, but Louis, do you truly regard as your beloved sister in your heart?"
Her tone was so light, it felt like it floated from the clouds. Even her gaze was calm and distant, drawing in anyone who t it.
There was a flicker of sothing deeper in Louis’ eyes, his breath hitched for a mont.
Then a light voice reached his ear, "Louis, you despise that much, is it because I have once seen you at your most miserable state?"
The youth was like a lotus with a black heart, the more innocent his appearance, the darker and more biased he was inside.
He was not a man to repay kindness. Towards Hannah Winter, who once pulled him out of the mire, all he felt was disgust.
Because to him, just seeing Hannah Winter would remind him of how pathetic and wretched he once was. Those mories he wanted to distance himself from were constantly provoked by her.
The little genuine affection he had left in his life had long been given to the whitish moonlight he adored in his younger years, Tiffany Lynch.
Gazing at the crystal-clear eyes, Louis seed to see himself struggling desperately on the lake that night. Those days when anyone could trample over him, and the night drinking tonight.
The youth’s temper flared, his gaze grew gloomy, his fists clenched tightly.
Hannah amusingly appraised the person in front of her, seemingly not worried about what he would do, and lightly rested her gaze on his beautiful eyes.
Applying a bit of pressure with her fingertips, a trace of red erged on the youth’s delicate and fair skin. The smile in her eyes widened.
At this mont, she was like a demoness, her innate innocence stripped away, leaving only mockery for the prey in her hand.
Sure enough, Louis was angered. His eyes devoid of the pitch-black colour leaving only an inflad red, yet his face still showed innocent and harmless. He stretched out his hand and gently grasped Hannah’s wrist, tightening it lightly, "Sister, why would you think that way?"
Whoever saw this graceful, good-looking young man, displaying such a pleasing and dependent look, would surely feel a tinge of softness in their heart.
Hannah slightly lifted the corner of her mouth, stretched out her hand, and directly slapped away the hand the young man placed on her wrist, "Louis, do you think your sister is that easy to fool?"
The youth’s gaze was cold and detached, yet he remained impassive.
Hannah cocked her head slightly, her black hair falling over her shoulder, brushing against the back of the youth’s reddened hand and brought a ticklish sensation that made one’s heart flutter.
She curved her lips into a smile, "Little Louis, why don’t you apologize to your sister? Maybe she’ll forgive your impudence and audacity."
With her seductive smile and captivating gestures, Louis averted his eyes and muffled his voice, "I won’t apologize to you."
His pride wouldn’t allow him to bow to anyone.
Hannah shook her head, rubbed her finger against the youth’s chin twice, then withdrew her hand, pulling out a piece of tissue to clean her hand, "Your apology isn’t important, I just want to tell you...if one day, Hannah Winter stops loving you, you will be nothing."
Louis watched as Hannah threw the tissue into the trash can. He looked up at her, retracted his intentional sweetness, his face devoid of expression.
She said Hannah Winter, not her, Hannah.
As far as Hannah herself was concerned, she neither loved nor hated the few worthless n in the plot. There wasn’t much sentint to begin with.
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