Simon Lockwood stood a few feet away in the shadows. Joanna Kennedy couldn’t make out his expression and felt a wave of discouragent. Even her high ponytail seed to droop. "Ignoring again," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "It’s always like this. Just how much do you hate ...?"
The hurt in her trailing words was lost to the wind. Simon Lockwood stepped out of the shadows, deftly leaned his bicycle against the wall, and closed the distance between them.
The sudden, oppressive feeling made Joanna Kennedy instinctively back away, but the next second, he grabbed her arm. "What are you running for?"
Simon Lockwood stared down at her. His grip was strong, his palm calloused, dry, and searing hot. His five fingers dug into her fair skin.
The spot where he held her stung with a searing heat. Her heart hamred as she frantically tried to push his hand away.
Simon Lockwood caught her other flailing hand, pinning her delicate wrist. He lowered his head, his long lashes concealing the emotion in his eyes. "If you couldn’t wait for , why didn’t you just leave?"
"You knew I tricked you, and you still waited here like an idiot?" he asked. "If I hadn’t co back at all tonight, would you have waited here all night?"
"Joanna Kennedy, do you have any sense of self-preservation at all?"
Joanna was stunned by his lecture. She was already feeling hurt, and now the one who’d caused it all was looking down on her. She’d never felt so frustrated. "Yes, I’m dumb! I’m stupid! I have no sense of self-preservation!"
Tears welled in her eyes as she glared at Simon Lockwood. "No matter what I do, it’s always wrong in your eyes."
’I painstakingly made a birthday gift, ran all the way over here to give it to him, and for what? To get the cold shoulder. All my efforts, completely wasted.’
Simon Lockwood just watched her, saying nothing. A heavy silence stretched between them.
After a long mont, Simon loosened his grip on her wrist. "I didn’t say that."
"But that’s what you ant!"
"..."
Joanna opened her mouth to say more, but a loud "GROWL" suddenly echoed in the quiet space.
Joanna: "..."
She froze. Sensing Simon’s gaze on her, her face instantly flushed crimson.
’Of all the tis for my stomach to betray , it had to be in the middle of a dramatic scene!’
It took Simon a mont to register. His brow furrowed. "You haven’t eaten?"
"Hmph," Joanna mumbled, turning away in embarrassnt.
Sitting on the small sofa in Simon Lockwood’s ho, Joanna was still a little dazed, not quite sure how he had ended up pulling her inside.
It was her first ti inside his ho. Her first impression was that it was small and old, but impeccably clean.
Her good behavior didn’t last long. She soon began to wander around, comnting first that the refrigerator was too small, then that the television needed to be replaced.
Peeling paint on the walls, not enough furniture, a tiny room, terrible soundproofing...
When she grew tired of her comntary, she leaned against the kitchen doorfra, cradling a glass of water Simon had poured for her. "Hey, are you making dinner?"
His back was to her. He had a tall, slender build, and the simple grey t-shirt and black pants he wore gave him an air of aloof indifference.
Simon didn’t answer, but Joanna wasn’t annoyed. Her temper flared up quickly, but it faded just as fast. One mont she’d been on the verge of tears, the next she was back to her chipper self. "Oh, right! Let’s go buy a cake. You can’t have a birthday without a cake! Hey, what do you think of this place? Simon, look, look..."
Simon, carrying a steaming bowl, walked around her with a blank expression and set it on the table. "Eat."
"Oh, okay!"
Simon had made noodles with greens and egg. The eggs were fried, two golden yolks resting atop the noodles alongside vibrant green bok choy. The aroma was incredible.
Joanna swallowed hard, her stomach feeling even emptier than before. Her cravings were fully awakened, and all thoughts of cake vanished. She lowered her head and began devouring the noodles, one mouthful after another.
After she was halfway done, the edge of her hunger finally dulled. She looked up with a touch more composure. The spot in front of Simon was empty. "Aren’t you eating?" she asked, confused.
"I already ate."
’So, he really did make this just for .’
Joanna paused mid-bite and peeked at Simon out of the corner of her eye.
Simon had his gaze lowered, looking at a vocabulary notebook he’d pulled out from sowhere.
His features were sharp and cool, his jawline clean and defined. He had a high nasal bridge, and with his eyes lowered, you could see his thick, long lashes. His well-defined lips were pressed into a thin line, radiating an indifference that kept the world at bay.
The stare from across the table was too intense to ignore. Without even looking up, his lips parted slightly. "Like what you see?"
Caught staring, Joanna’s cheeks flushed, but she wasn’t the least bit awkward. Bold and clear, her voice rang out, "I do."
She never tried to hide her feelings for him. "You’re really handso, Simon."
But Simon didn’t show the delight she expected from her complint. Instead, his expression soured. "You’ve been looking for two years. Aren’t you sick of it yet?"
’I only like his face... I’m not tired of the ga yet...’
The girl’s naive and arrogant voice seed to echo in his ears. Simon’s face went completely blank. He stood up, looking down at Joanna from his full height. "Leave when you’re done eating."
Not understanding why his mood had soured so suddenly, Joanna finished her noodles in a few quick slurps, wiped her mouth haphazardly, and said, "I won’t."
"Am I soone you can just invite over and then kick out whenever you feel like it?"
’This is what they an by letting the wolf into the house.’
She planted herself firmly in her seat, afraid Simon would actually throw her out. She leaned over the table, refusing to budge, peeking up at him with wide, almond-shaped eyes.
They stared at each other in silence for a mont.
Simon took a deep breath, his expression unchanged. "Go wash the bowl."
’He’s not kicking out?’
Joanna was secretly overjoyed but put on a reluctant act. "Fine..."
The "kitchen" was really just a small, partitioned-off space. After Joanna washed the bowl and put it away, she ca out to find Simon gone.
A sliver of light escaped from under the door of the adjacent room. She pushed it open and went in. Simon was sitting at a small desk, his eyes on a test paper in front of him that he had only partially completed.
Joanna walked over quietly and leaned casually against the desk, facing him. She waved a hand in front of his face. "Hey, do you have to study so hard? Let’s go out and celebrate your birthday."
Simon glanced at her before his eyes fell back to his desk.
Joanna nudged his leg with her foot. "I’m talking to you."
Simon: "I’m not going."
"That’s not an option," Joanna said, standing up straight. "I ca all this way specifically to celebrate your birthday with you."
Simon stopped writing. He picked up a book she had knocked over and put it back in its place, his gaze lowered. "There aren’t any cake shops around here."
"Oh..." Joanna’s face fell, but then a thought struck her and she perked up again. "No problem! I’ll have soone buy one and bring it over."
She pulled out her phone to send a ssage, but Simon lightly caught her wrist, took the phone from her, and placed it on the desk. "Don’t go to the trouble."
"It’s no trouble. I can pay for the delivery."
Looking at her earnest expression, Simon suddenly let out a soft laugh. "I know you have money."
Seeing him tuck the test paper into a book, Joanna asked, "You’re not studying anymore?"
Simon humd a soft "Mm." He walked a few steps, but when he noticed she wasn’t following, he stopped and turned. "Aren’t we going to buy a cake?"
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