Like a deliberately suppressed voice, afraid of being heard by others, it was like a kitten's whine, delicate and soft, all the more heartbreaking.
After a moment, he heard the sounds of the girl struggling to get up from behind him.
Assuming she was about to leave, he turned his head subconsciously to see her tidying the mess on the ground with her back to him.
Though a broom was right beside her, she stupidly used her hands, piece by piece, to pick up the porcelain shards from the floor.
Hopelessly clumsy.
He scoffed, taking a rare moment of kindness to remind her of something, only to see that she was already standing up.
In just less than a minute, her eyes were already swollen red, even her face was as though it had been covered with thick rouge, flushed crimson.
Her tears flowed non-stop, all she could do was, awkwardly, use her uninjured hand to wipe them away. But, alas, she just couldn't get her face clean, she sobbed, and looked so pitiful.
