"I’ve said many things in the desert; how would I know which remark you’re referring to?"
Sophie Sullivan rolled her eyes at him irritably, planting both hands on his chest and pushing him a couple of tis. "Get up, you’re terribly heavy..."
Thomas Shannon’s thin lips pressed tightly together, a cold chill emanating from the depths of his eyes.
He lay down beside her, hands cushioning the back of his head, seemingly deep in thought. Suddenly, he chuckled again.
Sophie was rendered speechless.
The man’s dark, deep eyes locked onto hers, his voice low and oppressive. "Do you need to remind you?"
She had no words.
"You said you liked too!"
Sophie was obviously flustered. "You... you were on the verge of death then, weren’t you? You asked if I liked you even a little. I was afraid you’d die just like that, so I wanted to comfort you, to let you die without regrets... Ah—"
Before she could finish, her chin was seized.
The man’s fingers tightened with a force that felt like it could crush her bones.
Pain!
Excruciating pain.
Sophie frowned. "Thomas Shannon, let go."
Thomas Shannon took a deep breath and gradually loosened his grip, his fingertips gently stroking her chin.
How dare she deny it? He rembered every single word she had said back then, crystal clear! And now she claims it was just comfort?
Sophie’s smile was cold and detached, her gaze cool. "Thomas Shannon, is this what you ant by not hurting ? You’ve never stopped hurting , never!"
Thomas Shannon’s eyes were profound and dark, his irises as black as black holes in the endless universe, exuding a lethal gravitational pull that seed to draw one in.
He’s angry! That was the ssage Sophie read in his eyes.
Just as Sophie thought he would erupt in fury, Thomas Shannon released her and rose to leave.
Sophie watched his departing figure, astonished.
He just left like that?He’s not planning to torture anymore?
At that thought, Sophie rolled over on the bed, her slender legs resting comfortably on the soft, fluffy quilt, and comfortably closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.
Charlie River saw Thomas Shannon erge from the lounge, his face dark. He had only gone in a short while ago, and Charlie River knew his Young Master had been irked by that little maniac again.
Harry saw his master and imdiately dived into Charlie River’s embrace, seeking cuddles and protection.
Thomas Shannon sat down, seething. He called a flight attendant for a bottle of wine. His face grim, he poured himself a glass and downed it in one go.
"Young Master, drinking too much is bad for your health..." Charlie River advised from the side.
Thomas Shannon, however, remained silent, pouring one glass after another, heedless of any advice.
In the lounge, Sophie was already fast asleep.
Thomas Shannon, having finished a bottle of wine, entered the lounge, slightly intoxicated.
Seeing Sophie sleeping so soundly, practically snoring, he seethed with anger. He was practically dying from the anger she’d caused him, yet there she was, sleeping peacefully.
The aggrieved Young Master Shannon pinched her nose. After a mont, Sophie simply opened her mouth, completely unaffected.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath. Then, Thomas Shannon maliciously covered her mouth.
Finally, tasting the discomfort of suffocation, Sophie slowly stirred. She opened her eyes groggily, saw the man’s gloomy face, and irritably pried his hand away. "Thomas Shannon, are you insane?"
Thomas Shannon’s face was cold as he remained silent.
Sophie yawned delicately, turned over, and prepared to go back to sleep.
The next second, the mattress dipped; Thomas Shannon had already lain down beside her.
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