Samuel Johnson lowered his head slightly and whispered in her ear, "Promise me you won't see him again, alright?"
Amanda Smith's closed eyes trembled as they slowly opened, her vacant gaze slowly meeting Samuel Johnson's face, as if trying to discern what he had just said.
After a moment, she seemed to smile and then turned her head to the side.
Her smile bloomed on her pale face, inexplicably carrying a hint of coldness.
That was a refusal.
And it was a refusal tinged with annoyance.
Samuel Johnson's eyes narrowed slightly, unable to ever seem to go easy on her.
By the time he came to, the sky was already showing the first light of dawn, and the villa was gradually filled with the sounds of people stirring.
Dawn was breaking.
The birthday party had ended.
Samuel Johnson sat up in bed, instinctively reaching for his cigarettes on the nightstand, only to remember he was in Amanda Smith's room where he wouldn't find them.
