She was angry,
A little knack of emotions swaying,
She was loathing every single strand of his hair,
Even the way he breathes was not an exception.
***
THE YEAR 1904, a century away from the present time.
He knuckled his fists, but this time, he put it behind his back. His temper was rising, his patience was running out. He could strangle Althea if she utters one more reckless word.
"That's why I threw the bejeweled box at the river, I eradicated every word from the legend, and I nearly drown to death and came here. That was the dreadful mistake I hated, until the end of my life, I would despise it so much," Althea mumbled. He pressed those fingernails through his palms, resulting in an injury.
