Faced with Anne's intimate advances, Chris felt nothing and remained unresponsive.
He was just about to push her away when his gaze fell upon the lower half of her face. It bore a striking resemblance to Giselle's. Her lips and the curve of her chin, in particular, were almost identical to Giselle's.
After a few seconds of trance-like hesitation, Chris could not help himself. He reached out, traced Anne's lips, and lowered his head to capture them.
Anne responded with even greater passion, kissing him back aggressively. As the kiss deepened, she took the initiative to unbutton his shirt.
They tumbled onto the couch. After the physical release, Chris simply grabbed a few tissues to clean himself up, then walked straight into the first-floor bathroom to shower.
Anne lay limp on the couch, her clothes in disarray. Listening to the sound of the water running, she felt no afterglow of pleasure, only a boundless void.
After they finished, Chris never offered her a tissue, nor did he hold her or offer any gentle words. He would not even take off his shirt during the act, only his pants, as if focused solely on the mechanical aspect of the encounter.
Yet, she always found a way to comfort herself. She told herself that by nature, he was a ruthless, cold-blooded man who viewed romance with contempt and simply did not care about the finer details.
She was willing to wait.
She would make him understand that in this world, only she could give him everything he wanted. She was the only woman worthy of his trust and reliance.
Once her thoughts settled, Anne's eyes drifted to Chris' phone on the couch.
She had bought the phone for him when they first arrived in Valanthea, and she had set up the SIM card herself.


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