Miss Hilveld turned back, the watery moonlight draping her cheeks, its edge glimring as if feathered with fine down. Beneath her slender eyebrows, a flicker of starlight danced deep in her eyes, carrying a hint of mischief, a twinkle of shyness, and a touch of courage:
"How is it?"
Fang Hong's heart pounded, his mind beca muddled as if he had lost control over himself, foolishly gazing at the other person. After a good while, he softly asked, "Hilveld...?"
But there was no further sound—
Hilveld bowed her head, gently lifting his hand, their palms softly eting, fingers interlocking with his slender, snow-white fingertips.
Only then did she raise her head, her sea-like eyes quietly looking at him, inching closer, her body low, one hand resting on the bed's edge as she climbed up. Beneath the thin sleepwear, the skin from her collar to her clavicle was shrouded in shadow, its curves gradually graceful. The moonlight outside the window cast a slanted edge, like silver sand, gleaming softly—akin to silk crossing dunes, then gathering into a mysterious darkness beneath.
Fang Hong watched this scene, his face flushed but unable to look away.
The young girl gently raised one foot, her toes flicking lightly, tossing off her shoe to reveal her alabaster ankle, then raised the other leg, kneeling up. One hand held Fang Hong's, the other propped beside him, her whole body almost leaning over.
Her dark eyes, shimring with starlight, were steadfastly gazing at her Captain.
The noble lady's rose-colored lips, reflecting the moonlight, sparkled like dewdrops on a flower's stan, trembling slightly.
Fang Hong inhaled the orchid-like fragrance, unable to restrain himself any longer, pecking lightly. In the darkness, tears on the rose petals fell silently—like a cool, secluded spring, icy and andering; resembling starlight twinkling, flickering through the long ages, the dappled night sky, with bright glass, scattering Silver Frost across the ground—
Flowing quietly in the darkness.
Fang Hong's hand wrapped around the noble lady's soft waist while the other lifted her cheek. Hilveld felt the warmth from his palm, letting out a soft sound from deep within her throat—that gentle sigh instantly overwheld Fang Hong, his hand naturally moved down, gently undoing her button.
A tender softness erged, lightly grazing the back of his hand.
Fang Hong's heart gave a sudden thump.
He abruptly sat up, turning the young girl around. The thin, disheveled sleepwear's collar veered away from the cold brilliance, along with an enticing curve, like the snow-white Sand Sea, reflecting the moonlight coldly. His gaze moved downward, only to see the girl's smooth waist—like silver sand, coldly reflecting the moonlight.
Miss Hilveld's eyes, as fluid as water, seed to contain nothing else, the depth of her deep blue pupils only reflecting Fang Hong's shadow.
She gazed at him, sowhat dazedly, Fang Hong also watching her—raising his right hand, delicately holding that tender face, his gaze savoring the long, slightly quivering eyelashes, like petals, carrying the laurel's faint fragrance.
The noble lady's soft gaze flickered.
He held it as if it were an unrivaled treasure, far surpassing all other Holy Relics in this world.
Their gazes intertwined, with silence more eloquent than words.
Fang Hong questioned her intent with his eyes.
Hilveld bit her lip, a hint of fear flickered in her heart, but she summoned all the courage from her girlhood, lightly nodding.
But at that mont.
A Little One reflected in her eyes, was climbing out from behind Fang Hong, drowsy and curious about them, rubbing her eyes until she recognized Hilveld, her iridescent eyes lit up, reaching out in a babyish voice:
"Mama, hug!"
This voice was like a cool spring, suddenly bringing Fang Hong back to clarity.
He quickly turned, pressing a finger on Nini's head, gently pushing her off his shoulder with an 'Ouch' and leaving her sprawled on the bed.
Fang Hong blushed, turning back to look at Hilveld—a girl still barely clothed—no doubt his handiwork from earlier. But he was suddenly too embarrassed to know what to say, even feeling awkward to cover her with a quilt.
Hilveld then lowered her eyelashes, tugging the sheet with her hand.
An awkward silence lingered between them.
Until Hilveld suddenly giggled, her eyes curving as she looked at his embarrassed state.
"Shall we continue?"
She asked softly.
Fang Hong shook his head, reaching out to gently adjust her sleepwear's collar.
His bright gaze looked at her, his voice slightly hoarse as he spoke:
"Miss Hilveld."
"Mm."
Hilveld's eyes curved as she softly responded.
But Fang Hong looked at her, adding:
"Will you marry ?"
"Mm."
Hilveld softly replied again.
"I know, there are many differences between the Invoker and the Natives..."
"But I'm serious, no matter the obstacles ahead, I will marry you."
Quietly, Fang Hong spoke earnestly, as if narrating a promise: "Will you co with to Earth?"
Hilveld's gaze glittered with bright light: "To another world?"
"Mm."
"Can Ade do it?"
"...Actually, Miss Miya is more suited for you," she raised her hand, gently pressing his hand, softly saying: "Ade, you will eventually leave this place. I wish for you to leave the deepest mory in my life, irrespective of others, neither my father nor the Seven Seas Traveler—"
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