The thing that Marcellus hated the most in his life was when a woman cried. Most importantly, no matter how delicate and beautiful her face was, as long as it was stained with tears, it would be particularly disgusting.
In a word, ugly.
But now, looking at Beryl crying so hard, not only did he not feel ugly, but he even felt a little pitiful.
Her palm-sized face was wet, and her nose and eyes were red from crying, but the skin around her was still so white. Her big bright eyes were soaked in tears, and her delicate chin was covered with tears.
The most important thing was that she looked like she wanted to cry but had to hold it back, as if she had been greatly bullied.
Even he, the initiator, felt that he had gone a little too far just now. But when he thought about it carefully, it was just a kiss. How could she cry like this? He had a sense of shame!
As a result, he took a small step back and cursed irritably, "What did I do? Stop crying!"
Beryl had no choice but to shut her mouth and try her best to suppress it. Her throat seemed to be drenched with sour lemon juice, which made her feel bitter and uncomfortable. Her mouth trembled violently because of her emotions.
It looked funny, more like a kind of ridicule for Marcellus.
For a moment, the courtyard became quiet. Except for the tears that kept falling from Beryl, everything seemed to be still.
"You don't understand what I'm saying, do you?" Marcellus put his arm on the side of her face and said in a threatening tone.
Beryl was startled by his actions. She thought that he was going to hit her, so she closed her eyes tightly and sobbed, "Rogue! Bastard!"
Marcellus was speechless
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