The scent was so overpowering that his head swam, and he fell to the ground without realizing it, the cold seeping into his body.
His lips were tightly pressed, and soon a hint of blood seeped from the already cracked skin, staining his pale lips with a pitiful and sorrowful hue, "Sister, it was me who…spoke out of turn before."
An excuse so pale it was almost laughable to himself.
Hannah merely nodded her head, suddenly bent down close to his face, and let out a light chuckle, "Are you trying to say, 'children say the darndest things'?"
The faint scent from the tip of her nose seemed to dilute the annoying smell of alcohol. The soft white tenderness that seemed tangible if only he reached out caused Louis's heart to tremble.
But the words that reached his ears…were too cold.
The youth cast his gaze downward, his eyelashes quivering slightly, revealing a deep sense of unrest, as his fingertips unintentionally caressed the not so visible wound on his wrist.
