But no one had any right to comnt on what happened. They could only look away, no longer watching.
Except for Hannah.
She silently looked in Vincent’s direction, seeing him crack a comforting smile at her from his bruised mouth.
Silently mouthing, "Don’t be afraid."
He curled his fingers, trying hard to suppress his screams of pain. He didn’t want Hannah to hear and beco scared. He moved as much as he could into the corner, out of her sight.
But she watched him like a shadow, like having walked through snow and ice and stepping into a room full of warmth. The warmth touched his heart, yet burned on his skin.
He had longed for this attention, but now he wanted to escape from it.
She caught his weak gaze, his eyelashes trembling, stars scattering from them. She sighed softly, "So foolish."
When Vincent was restrained, he was drained of all his energy, no strength left to resist, like a beast that had its throat pierced and only showing a fierce look in his eyes, no force left to resist.
Louis Snyder watched coldly, expressing his tenderness only to the person in his arms. Recognizing Hannah’s softness towards Vincent, he was even less willing to let go.
Seeing her lower her eyes and pursing her lips, he thought she was in pain. Jealousy rushed through him like choppy rivers. He spoke softly, "Do you pity him, Sister?"
Hannah shook her head, "No, I pity you."
Louis was stunned but quickly understood. A smile spread across his face.
As Vincent was led away, his icy stare lingered on Louis. Louis, however, acted as if he did not notice.
Hannah turned her head, "Can you let go now?"
Louis remained silent, not only not letting go but tightening his grip instead. Lowering his head onto Hannah’s shoulder, his voice a little muffled, "You never used to talk like that in the past."
Hannah was a year older than Louis, but from a distance, the tall young man seed to cover the woman in his arms, looking more like a sweet couple.
As George Quach cleared away the crowd to manage the aftermath, there weren’t many people left in the courtyard, making the intimacy between Hannah and Louis even more noticeable.
Hilary Quin and Jas Landon, who had just arrived, saw the scene.
Hilary stood at the door, scoffing, "So that’s why she didn’t care about . She already has soone she likes."
She was irritated that Hannah had shown her up again and was about to leave when she noticed Jas standing silently to the side.
As if thinking of sothing, she said aningfully, "So people are hypocrites, they appear innocent but are sneaky. There’s no need to be upset over a woman like that."
Jas looked over, his voice cold, "Are you done?"
Hilary was taken aback, extrely embarrassed, "I’m just trying to help."
Jas paused, then added, "Even if you try to please , I won’t help you write songs. The fact that you can’t carry a tune, even if the fans don’t know, it’s still a fact."
Fans, a special group. As long as it’s their idol, they would praise any sound they make, even if it’s just wailing.
After speaking, he turned and walked away.
Hilary, snapping back to reality, was so angry she nearly broke a fingernail. She could only glare at Jas’ retreating figure, mumbling curses under her breath before leaving hurriedly.
Louis t Hannah’s gaze and hesitated for a mont. Eventually, he reluctantly let go of her hand. Jokingly, he said, "You seem to have more patience with a madman than ."
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