Hannah put down the rose in her hand, happily took the ice cream from Arnold’s hand, and moved aside to make room for him.
Arnold glanced down only to see the bouquet of roses. He casually asked, "Where did you get these roses?"
Without thinking, Hannah responded, "Soone just gave them to ."
The rich taste of milk in her mouth made Hannah squint with satisfaction, but she quietly shifted closer to Arnold, pushing the roses that lay between them aside.
She playfully jabbed his arm and placed her hand in his, "Arnold, are you jealous again?"
Her petite hand was soft and a bit cold, emitting a rich milky scent.
He looked down, his gaze resting on her delicate face. Her petal-like lips shone slightly, carrying a hint of a milky freshness.
Unable to resist, Arnold tightened his grip on her hand, bending to kiss the corner of her mouth.
Sweet.
With a strong milky perfu, it was so sweet it was sickening, yet his calm deanor hid his words that revealed a hint of chills, "No, not jealous at all."
Hannah brushed his palm, gently leaning her lovely face towards him, laughing, "Arnold, you always love to deny."
Her cheeks were still flushed, especially her shimring, moist lips.
They made one’s heart flutter.
How could he bother arguing with her?
Arnold slipped his fingers between hers, firmly grasping her hand in his own. He casually brushed aside her loose hair, his deep eyes showing intensity, "Forget the flowers, I’ll give you ones you like."
Hannah knew Arnold was jealous, but she pretended to be angry, pouting her red lips, murmuring, "It’s only a bouquet of flowers."
The rarely stubborn Arnold stared at the girl in his arms, his seriousness surfacing as he replied, "Even a bouquet is unacceptable."
In the end, Hannah did not take the bouquet of roses left on the bench.
The radiant fireworks lit up the night sky, spraying down sparks that resembled falling teors.
A shaggy-haired young man dumbly looked at the abandoned bouquet on the bench. Under the night sky, the dazzling red patriots almost blinded his eyes.
He stepped forward, gently cradling the roses in his arms, feeling the residual warmth left by the girl. Lovingly holding the bouquet, his smile was bittersweet.
It’s alright. She must have just forgotten to take it.
After all... she had already accepted it.
The young man clutched the bouquet tightly in his arms, took a few stiff steps away, and blindly weaved through the crowd, keeping his head low. Within two steps, he felt soone heavily bump into his shoulder.
The hat on his head fell to the ground.
The girl who was about to apologize saw the young man’s face and her eyes instantly lit up, "You...You are Louis Snyder, right!"
She clung tightly to Louis’s arm, refusing to let go.
There was a layer of coldness on Louis’s face, but he still held onto the bouquet closely, "Can you let go of , please?"
The girl completely ignored him, and excitedly called to her friends who were busy taking pictures, "It’s Louis Snyder! Louis Snyder! Co here quickly!"
Her shouting imdiately attracted the attention of the surrounding crowd, and the area beca crowded all at once.
So people didn’t recognize who Louis Snyder was.
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