Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 201

A fond look softened Lennon's features. "That's a great idea, Mrs. Crestwell. We can definitely do that."

Seren's smile returned, bright and cheerful as she handed the invitation to him. "Then you can write it." She was the type to hold a grudge; if she disliked someone, she didn't even want to write their name.

Lennon glanced down. "I can write it, of course. But you should also be involved in something like this, right, Mrs. Crestwell?"

Seren looked puzzled. "How would I be involved?"

"Just come with me," Lennon said, his tone serious.

With that, he took the invitation and strode over to the study desk. Seren followed, watching him expertly prepare the writing materials, completely unable to guess what he had in mind.

Lennon didn't say another word. After setting out the fountain pen and ink, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled up his sleeves before finally looking at Seren. His deep eyes were smiling, his voice a low, enchanting murmur. "Come a little closer, Mrs. Crestwell."

Though confused, Seren obeyed, taking two steps forward. Lennon reached out and pulled her into his embrace. She found herself sitting on his lap, her back pressed intimately against his chest.

A blush crept up her face. Flustered, she didn't dare move and could only ask in a whisper, "Lennon, what are you doing?"

"Writing the invitations isn't just my responsibility," he said, a hint of a smile in his eyes as he spoke slowly and deliberately. "I want you to be a part of it."

He made such a good point, and he sounded so sincere, that Seren didn't know what to say. So she just settled quietly into his lap.

Lennon picked up the pen, his strokes firm and elegant, each character formed with a powerful grace. Seren's initial awkwardness faded as she became captivated by his beautiful penmanship.

When he finally set the pen down, she asked, "Your handwriting is incredible. Have you studied penmanship?"

Lennon remained humble, his gaze soft as he looked down at her. "I had to learn a few things," he said softly. "How else could I be worthy of you, Mrs. Crestwell?"

His voice was husky, thick with emotion, and Seren’s heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling washed over her: Lennon's affection, which had once seemed so clear and simple, now felt as deep and unfathomable as an ancient well. She suddenly felt a powerful urge to understand him—to know everything about his past.

Later, a tailor arrived to take their measurements. The team consisted mostly of women, and a woman naturally stepped forward to measure Lennon. But after Lennon murmured something to her, she had a male apprentice take over while she directed from the side.

As the young man called out Lennon’s measurements, Seren quietly committed them to memory. She had some spare cash and wanted to buy him some clothes. After all, he was always giving her things, and she felt she hadn't bought him a single gift.

After lunch, Lennon left for the office. Before he went, he left her a large ring of car keys, telling her to take a drive if she got bored at home.

They had been inseparable for days, and once he was gone, Seren was surprised to find she felt a little lost.