His slender hands gripped the wine bottle, looking pale and fragile under the dark shadows, but had a certain toughness.
He had done the thing he found most contemptible and detestable.
It was only at the moment when the somewhat choking wine entered his throat that he finally understood.
In fact, he and Hannah Winter were no different, they were all the same kind of people, cowardly and self-loathing. He only used Hannah's dependence on him to elevate his own status, inflicted all the harm on a girl.
Hannah Winter... Hannah Winter...
These three words seemed to be imprinted on his heart, they burned hotter with every sip of alcohol he consumed.
The pain was excruciating.
The wound on his back that had long since healed seemed to be throbbing again.
In his daze, the image of her from that night reappeared before him - her downcast brows, caring gaze, gentle touch, and comforting voice.
He detested Hannah Winter with all of his heart.
