She looked over, her curled eyelashes like butterfly wings, bringing with them a whistling north wind that blew straight into his heart.
George River’s eyes were already full of red blood vessels, gone was his usual grace and composure, with a hint of madness for love, unable to utter a single word of rebuttal.
Hannah looked into his eyes directly, "George River, I ask you, if I still loved you like before, recklessly and without care, would you still co before today and say ’I love you’?"
The man was silent for a long ti, his clenched hands slowly relaxed, he moved his pale lips mockingly, "So, you really have no feelings, not even a bit of yearning for ?"
The kite in her hand fell to the ground, Hannah glanced down at it but didn’t pick it up, and continued, "You see, you didn’t answer my question, which ans you know in your heart better than anyone, that your coming to find is nothing more than an unwillingness to let go. As for what that unwillingness pertains to, you know it well."
So people have peculiar personalities; even if it’s sothing they themselves have discarded, the mont they see soone else wanting it, they beco determined to snatch it back.
George River did not answer for a long ti, just looked at the kite lying at Hannah’s feet.
Just when Hannah was about to leave, the man bent down to pick up the kite from the ground, not returning it, but gripping it tightly in his hand.
Following the kite string with his eyes, that was entwined around Hannah’s hand, he took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremor in his voice, "So you actually knew all along that Arnold Simmons wasn’t dead, right? You’re refusing because of him, aren’t you?"
Hannah stopped walking, glanced sideways at him, and spoke calmly, "You should detach yourself from your own world. I detest you, and it has nothing to do with anyone else."
George River was still not giving up, "I don’t believe it."
He didn’t believe any word she said, couldn’t believe when she said she had no feelings for him, it was impossible.
The man’s voice, trembling, could no longer be concealed, his heart kept sinking, the more he realized he was cornered, the more stubborn he beca, fighting a losing battle.
Then a stubborn thought erged, "Is it only if Arnold Simmons is truly dead that you’d be willing to co back to my side?"
After he finished speaking, Hannah finally agreed to give him a glance, but her face was devoid of a smile. Yet, even when her delicate and charming face turned cold, it still carried a srizing allure.
George River watched her greedily, his dark pupils gleaming with a faint, ominous light.
Hannah tore off the kite string wrapped around her hand and threw it onto the man, "If you pit yourself against him, I won’t let you off either."
The man suddenly laughed, his expression cold and mixed with madness and ruthlessness, "The more you say that, the more I want him dead."
"You can try."
After that, Hannah didn’t bother with him anymore and turned to leave.
Watching her slender silhouette departing, George River gripped the kite in his hand until it was deford, then hastily loosened his grip.
He carefully smoothed out the wrinkles on it, murmuring to himself in a low voice, "Hannah Winter, sooner or later you will co back to ."
*
Seeing Hannah coming back, Jack Stewart hurried up to check on her, "Are you okay? Did he molest you? If he really did, I’ll castrate him right now!"
Hannah put up her hand to stop him, "He didn’t touch ."
Jack Stewart stopped and frowned, "What did you talk about for so long? I see that George River doesn’t look so good. He isn’t really thinking of getting back together with you, is he?"
Hannah nodded, then bent down to rub Matthew Quach’s head, whispering softly to him, "Be good, cover your ears. You’re too young. These things aren’t ant for you to hear."
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