I stood frozen before his cold, red eyes, glinting menacingly. I knew at that point I should've let him go, but I held on out of fear. If only I knew this would be the start of a tragic story, I would have definitely let go. No, I wouldn't have chased after him just to express my gratitude… if only I knew that day seven years ago would twist our fate like this, I would've chosen to get run over by that carriage.
****
"Let go or you'll lose your hands," He warned, and my eyes slowly dilated, but I didn't let go. His brows furrowed, glancing at my dirty hands before shifting them back to my eyes.
He looked annoyed. "Your hand it is," He said, but before he could do anything, my words slipped past my lips, "Mister, will it hurt you if you listen to my gratitude?" I asked, and I slowly loosened my grip.
