Vincent kept asking why. He buried his head in his arms and tore at his hair, yelling desperately, "Why? Why?!"

Rosalie patted his back, not knowing what to say to comfort him.

Not all pain could be soothed with mere words.

He had lost a kin, and in such a terrible way. No one would be able to bear it. If it had happened to herself, she would have broken down, too.

Vincent suddenly reached out to pull Rosalie into his arms and lock her in a tight embrace.

Rosalie was frightened. She anxiously held her palms against his broad shoulders in a bid to push him away.

Just then, Vincent pleaded in her ear, "Don't move. Let me hug you like this just for a while. Please."

Rosalie sighed inwardly.

She patted his back and said, "This isn't your fault. It's all the fault of those villains. I trust Youngie wouldn't blame you, either. She'd want you to treasure the present and live every day to the fullest. She wouldn't want you to be in pain anymore."

"Rosalie, I'm sorry for keeping you here and treating you as Youngie over the last few days. I was just pursuing memories of the past and living in an illusion. When I first saw you, it was as if I saw Youngie. I couldn't stand the thought of getting hurt by them."

eyes. He was drowning inside and unable to save himself. Rosalie could hear

her about his internal struggle and pain. He was trying to explain his behavior,

saving me. Whether you were treating me as Youngie or myself, you saved

I didn't take you as Youngie, I would have saved

and added with all seriousness, "I can't stand

in silence, a mix of

with Vincent's pain. Perhaps she was just

floor. Let me help

stood up. He stumbled in his steps, more from his wrecked

helped him to the

the house as

quiet night, the moon's rays shone on

the dim street lights, a ghostly aura wavering in the night wind.

in the deep

in the distance, their

his men were hiding

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