Just one sentence easily ignited the man’s anger, he pinned her down, leaned over her face, eting her intentionally pouted lips, but quickly regained his calm.
Hannah squinted her eyes closed, waiting for a while, but nothing expected happened from George.
Instead, she received a flick on her forehead.
He didn’t dare to use a lot of force, however, the startled Hannah still instinctively cradled her own forehead and winced in pain.
She then flumped back down on the sofa, her hair was ssy from all the squirming, sweat pouring down from her forehead, and she looked at George with teary eyes and asked, "Arnold, do you not like anymore?"
Arnold was thodically buttoning up his collar that had been pulled open, his face no longer showing the passion from earlier, he had regained his sanity completely, but his eyes still held lingering affection.
He picked up the water glass from the table, took a small sip, his voice cool, "I haven’t brought up the issue of you coming ho late yet."
Hannah sat up, held a cushion in her arms, pouting in frustration, "You don’t like , what right do you have to control ."
Sounding utterly spoiled.
Arnold looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"Okay, okay, I was wrong, I promise I won’t do it again." Hannah raised her hand to make an oath then she giggled as she went over to hug Arnold’s hand, "Tell then, why didn’t you want to?"
Each ti he held himself back was clearly very difficult, she was genuinely worried that this would take a toll on Arnold’s health.
As she thought of it, Hannah couldn’t help but lower her gaze.
But before she could get a good look, George covered her eyes.
Even though everything went dark, so things...cough cough...were hard to ignore.
A low and deep male voice echoed in her ears, seemingly grinding his teeth, "Hannah."
"Hey, I’m here."
She blinked, her long curly eyelashes brushed against the man’s palm, like a butterfly lightly flapping its wings, the extrely soft interaction induced a ticklish feeling.
The sensation spread from her palms to her chest, the suppressed urges began to slowly resurface.
Unable to get a response from Arnold, Hannah couldn’t help but call out, "Arnold?"
Arnold seed to snap back to reality, let go of her hand and stood up.
All he left was a sentence, "You’ll know in the future."
Arnold got up and walked upstairs.
Realizing what was happening, Hannah jumped off the sofa to chase after him. She looked up at him, "Arnold, are you angry?"
Arnold cast a glance to the barefoot girl in front of him, his eyes landed on her bare feet.
No shoes on, standing there in her folded legs, probably aware of his gaze, she shyly took a step back.
Arnold went to get a pair of slippers, then led Hannah back to the sofa and bent down to put the slippers on her feet, "I’m not angry, just there’s soone trying to bully my little bird, I need to deal with it."
Hannah understood Arnold’s aning when she heard it.
So things are just the beginning.
She sat on the sofa, grabbing Arnold’s hand and looking up at him. Her feet, having snugly slipped into the slippers, were mischievously swinging back and forth. Her face blood an enchanting smile, "Can I go with you?"
Arnold held her in his arms, caressing her soft black hair, "It’s late, you should rest."
Hannah nodded and buried herself back in Arnold’s arms.
*
That day, Tiffany Lynch waited for George River in the restaurant for almost an hour. It wasn’t until the waiter reminded her that she realized George had left.
He actually left her behind without a word?!
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