Vincent couldn't bear the injustice.
Tears fell onto his palm, leaving a stain. He rubbed his hands furiously, as if he wanted to peel his skin off.
A delicate white face seemed to float before his eyes. He muttered repeatedly, "Don't despise Vincent, Hannah, please don't despise Vincent..."
*
The cold wind scattered the heavy clouds above the night sky, and the moonlight seemed to filter through a layer of white gauze, creating a gauzy haze.
The two of them stopped talking. The courtyard fell completely silent, except for the distant sound of frogs croaking in the rice fields, and the farther off noise of a bustling crowd.
The sounds carried by the wind only emphasized the silence of their small world.
The youth stood still, his tall stature allowing him to gaze down upon the warm and gentle face beside him.
