Jack Stewart looked like he wanted to eat soone alive, scaring the nearby children to tears. Each one of them cried out for their mothers, the only exception being Matthew Quach, who nodded in agreent.
With a face feigning mature coolness, he said, "Hmm, I see."
Under the tree.
Hannah playfully tugged at her kite, her actions sowhat childish, her smile pure and innocent.
Unfortunately, the words she spoke were as piercing as the thorns of a rose, "George River, I rember telling you not to bother again."
George’s expression remained unchanged as he changed the subject, "You like kite flying. When we go back, I can buy you many. We have a large yard at ho where you can play all day without anyone daring to disturb you, except for ."
He spoke as if talking to himself.
Hannah glanced at him, her red lips slowly blossoming into a faint smile, her voice light, "Are you still half asleep?"
Even in winter, the noon sun can be blinding, at tis even more intense than in sumr, dazzlingly bright to the point of making one’s vision swoon.
George shook his head, openly admitting, "Be with ."
Seeing no response from Hannah, he added, "Tiffany and I are over. Let’s start anew." He paused for a second before continuing, "Whether it was the two years we were together or the mont we broke up, I could always tell how deep your feelings for were. I don’t believe you could forget so easily. Hannah Winter, let’s start over."
He spoke each word deliberately, his gaze firm and serious, looking at the person in front of him as he rembered the two years she had spent by his side.
Back then, Hannah Winter’s personality was the complete opposite of Tiffany’s. Unlike Tiffany’s gentleness and elegance, Hannah was more like a trembling yellow flower in the wind, looking like it could break at any mont, eliciting easy pity from onlookers.
She was too timid, the type he used to detest the most.
But when she crashed into his arms, looking up at him with tearful eyes, she bore an uncanny resemblance to the Tiffany he had once deeply loved.
He felt no thrill for Hannah, yet he stubbornly wanted to keep her by his side, trying to make her a substitute for Tiffany.
Until Tiffany ca back, he naturally cast Hannah aside, disgust filling his heart as he watched her at his feet, pouring out her affection, whereas he felt nothing but repulsion.
However, in their subsequent encounters, he saw her flourish beside other n, dazzling in such a way that she was like a vibrant flower blooming over an abyss – so strikingly red that it bled, perpetually tempting people to pluck it, only to end up shattered to pieces.
It was still the sa face he knew, pure and beautiful, yet enchanting and seductive.
And yet, he could only force himself to look away, cursing her promiscuity in his heart while being unable to control himself from seeking her out ti and again.
How ridiculous it was to fall in love with a substitute he once despised and rejected.
When Arnold Simmons "ca back to life," it was less about his worry over whether Hannah was being played and more about his own panic and unwillingness to settle.
"George River."
The girl’s soft voice suddenly rang out.
George snapped back to the present, eting her bright smile, radiant as spring beauty, more lingering than the winter sun, as the waves of emotion in his heart surged, he wanted to take her away without a second thought.
Hannah pretended not to see the madness that suddenly flared in the man’s eyes, shifting her gaze away as she spoke indifferently, "Is that what you ca to tell ?"
In her eyes, he couldn’t see the past obsession, the bitterness in his heart mingling with even greater anger.
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