Feeling her clothes being pulled, Beryl, who had never been intimate with anyone, instinctively raised her hand to stop him. "I... I'm scared..."
Above her, Marcellus stopped his actions. Under his disheveled hair, his dark eyes shimmered with an unreadable light.
After a moment, he spoke in a gravelly voice, "Scared of me?"
Beryl didn't catch the deeper meaning in his words and nodded slightly. "A bit..."
Heh.
A soft breath, barely audible, slipped from the corner of his lips. Beryl couldn't even be sure if he had smiled just now.
"Never mind." He took a deep breath and was about to turn away.
By some strange impulse, seeing his expression and hearing his tone, Beryl felt that if she pushed him away now, there might never be another chance.
So, in the silence of this late night, in a space where there were only the two of them, she made the boldest move of her twenty years of life.
She grabbed Marcellus' hand.
Seemingly not expecting her to take further action, Marcellus stiffened at her touch.
He turned his face away and didn't look at her, but even without saying a word, Beryl could sense his longing for her.
He needed someone to accompany him urgently.
Beryl took a deep breath and loosened her grip on his hand slightly. Her long, fluttering eyelashes resembled two small brushes, blinking up and down.
Her heartbeat felt like it would leap out of her throat, and her voice trembled.
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