She looked at herself and it was as if they were back in the old rental they once shared.
It was a warmth that gave peace to the heart.
She stroked him over and over, as if comforting a stray, injured puppy, her smile faint, her gaze tranquil, "Louis, you and him are not so different after all."
The dream shattered, leaving nothing but a ss behind.
Louis Snyder abruptly stopped, tugged at the corner of his lips but couldn’t manage a smile, only managing to bitterly say, "What are you talking about, sister?"
Hannah withdrew her hand, dimming the smile at the edges of her mouth, "If you don’t understand, then never mind."
"Indeed, I don’t understand," he whispered.
The boy hung his head again, but this ti, there was a sourness at his nose, and his eyes darkened completely, interwoven with a complex and eerie emotion.
Yes, he and George River were the sa.
Both of them saw Hannah as nothing more than a replacent.
The only difference was George River used money, while he used emotions.
They both realized it too late.
But what he truly hated was that once, Hannah’s feelings for George River had been genuine.
The girl who had blushed countless tis talking about that man in front of him hadn’t been pretending.
She would cook for him, decorate every corner of the house with care, and even thoughtfully look after him.
Even he had never received these gestures of love wholeheartedly.
Apart from Arnold Simmons, the person he hated most was George River.
The man who had everything but never cherished it as he should have.
Watching Hannah about to return to her room, Louis Snyder spoke up again with a smile, "Tomorrow, there’s a scene with you and . If I don’t understand sothing, can I ask you about it?"
He seed to nervously clutch his own wrist, his thumb undoubtedly rubbing against a still-healing wound on his arm.
"Of course, you can," she said, glancing at the boy’s unconscious motion as she smiled and closed the door behind her.
The hallway fell into complete silence again.
Louis Snyder slumped against the door fra as if letting go of all his strength, slowly sliding down until he was seated on the cold carpet.
A tiny wound on his arm continued to seep droplets of blood, seemingly accidental, yet possibly deliberate.
"Sister."
In the empty hallway, the boy murmured softly.
*
The next day during filming, Louis Snyder finally had his first overt interaction with Hannah.
Everyone simply assud that the tension between them due to the fans had sowhat eased.
Occasionally, you could see Louis Snyder asking Hannah about the script in an obedient manner.
It seed nothing more than a typical junior-senior relationship in the industry.
Often, at these tis, Hayes Edwards would jump out from the sidelines, wedging himself between the two, acting as if he alone was sober amongst the drunk.
"Louis, if you have a question, can’t you just ask the director? Does Hannah not have her own busy schedule?" he’d question.
Pure-hearted Hayes Edwards was sowhat irritable at that mont, especially seeing Louis Snyder’s perpetually innocent face.
He was so angry he wanted to smash sothing, but ultimately, Hannah held him back.
Hayes Edwards turned around, the earlier brashness lting into grievance as he faced Hannah, "Hannah Winter, have you been chard by that kid, too, that you want to protect him now?"
His voice carried the tone of a jealous concubine.
Hannah held him with one hand, glancing up at Louis Snyder seated across from her, holding a script that he had brought himself.
It was covered with ticulous notes.
Louis Snyder was indeed a good actor.
Locking eyes with the young man for a mont, Hannah quickly looked away, reassuring Hayes Edwards, "Not at all, your mind is just too active. It’s just a normal rehearsal."
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