But he just watched Hannah walk away, only rubbing his black hair irritably when he heard the door closing.
He murmured, "This is madness, she's Hannah Winter!"
Nothing more than a replacement, a weak and foolish substitute.
What on earth was he thinking?
The boy fell onto the couch as he gazed vacantly at the pristine ceiling. Yet, what appeared before his eyes was a delicate and lovely neck, and... her rosy lips.
The agitation in his heart increased.
After a while, the teenager's muttered to himself in the quiet living room, "Hannah Winter, there's no way I could like you. A substitute is a substitute; always a substitute, you're the person I despise most in this life."
"I won't soften up, I won't."
When Hannah woke up the next day, Louis had already left the apartment, leaving neatly-folded clothes on the sofa.
She wasn't surprised.
If he had stayed until now after yesterday's incident, then it would be weird.
She figured he wouldn't bother her for quite a while.
