His Precious Love

Chapter 613

“Mr. Hamilton, it's time to get to class.”

Jefferson heard the words muted by the fog of sleep and opened his eyes to see Ringo, who seemed to have aged backward a few years since they last met, standing by his bed.

“Ringo?” Jefferson braced himself up and stared at him. “Why do you look younger?”

A bewildered look crossed Ringo's face. “Did I look old before?”

“Well, you certainly didn't look young...” Jefferson trailed off and glanced around in surprise as he realized he was in his childhood bedroom at the Terblanc residence.

Didn't I die?

Am I dreaming now?

Jefferson got out of bed and washed up. He sucked in a breath when he nicked his skin with a razor, registering for the first time that he could still feel pain in his dreams.

Ringo handed him a pair of diamond-shaped cufflinks as the latter emerged from the bathroom.

Jefferson fastened them neatly on his sleeves and caught a glimpse of a calendar on the table. Upon a closer look, he realized the date was five years ago!

He pointed at it and said with a quiver in his voice, “Today is the eighteenth!”

“Yes, what's the matter, Mr. Hamilton?” Ringo caught the strange expression on his face and asked, “Do you not want to go to school?”

“Today's the eighteenth...” Jefferson muttered. His gaze shot to Ringo, and he mumbled an apology before punching Ringo in the midriff.

He didn't pull his punch, and Ringo staggered back two steps, clutching his stomach. His usual cold expression was replaced with one of indignance. “Mr. Hamilton, I get it. Today is the eighteenth, but why did you have to hit me?”

Everything was unbelievably real, including his tingling fingers, and Jefferson was elated. “This isn't a dream. It's the eighteenth today—Belle's first day at school!”

He snatched the jacket out of Ringo's hands and hurried out of the bedroom.

Ringo was hot on his heels as soon as he recovered and bumped into Boniel in the living room.

Boniel noticed Jefferson's bizarre behavior and called out to Ringo, “What's up with Jefferson? He was rambling about Belle while rushing out. Who exactly is Belle?”

“It should be Mr. Hamilton's classmate. I'll send him to school now, Old Mr. Terblanc.” His legs were a blur as he moved as fast as he could and disappeared shortly after, leaving Boniel at a loss for words.

Jefferson spent the entire car ride fretting over his appearance and even asked Ringo as he opened the car door if he looked okay today.

Ringo answered him patiently for the tenth time, “You look dashing, Mr. Hamilton.”

Jefferson yelled at him to stop the car as they drove past a florist and shoved the door open.

Ringo saw him returning a minute later with a bouquet of green roses, cradling them in his arms like a baby.

Ringo thought to himself, I have been by Mr. Hamilton's side every day, yet why don't I know anyone named “Belle?”

As the car slid to a stop at the south entrance of Norham University, Jefferson got out and waited with the bouquet in hand instead of entering, his blue eyes scanning around as if waiting for someone.

Ringo didn't dare interrupt and stood to the side observing him.

They stood around for nearly half an hour, and he wondered if Jefferson had been duped by a girl. A taxi pulled up by the entrance as soon as Ringo opened his mouth to speak.

A figure emerged from the car and proceeded to the trunk to retrieve a suitcase before thanking the taxi driver.

Ringo knew it was a new student at first glance, but Jefferson's expression shifted, his eyes never leaving the girl, his breathing quickening.

He looked at the girl, then at Jefferson again.

She lugged the suitcase in their direction and flashed a friendly smile at both of them standing at the entryway.

Her eyes were dark as black onyx, twinkling like stars in the night sky. She was tall, slender, and beautiful.

Jefferson stood rooted to the ground for three whole minutes after being reunited with the girl he loved, his mind drawing a blank.

He was jolted out of his reverie when she almost entered the campus and scrambled to her. “Belle!”

He shouldered his way in front of her and pinned her with an intense stare.

His aggressive demeanor startled the girl a few steps back. She assumed he was a representative sent by the school to greet her, seeing that he spoke Chanaean and addressed her by name.

“Hello, I'm Isabelle Griffith from Chanaea.” She smiled. “I was nervous on the way here and afraid that I wouldn't find my dorm. I didn't know the school would assign you to welcome me. Thank you.”

Jefferson tried to curb his emotions and handed her the bouquet of green roses. “Do you like it?”

“They're beautiful!” Her eyes brightened as she saw the delicate flowers and reached out to accept them. “Thank you.”

“I'm Jefferson Hamilton.” He took a step closer, his fervent gaze still trained on her. “I won't let you go this time.” His fingertips brushed against her cheek.

She stiffened at his sudden touch. “What are you talking—”

He cradled her face and leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss.

Ringo was puzzled and still chewing over Jefferson's words when Jefferson kissed the girl. He gaped, dumbfounded.

I thought Mr. Hamilton was very reserved. W-Why would he forcibly kiss a girl in public?

Jefferson only pulled back a minute later.

Her lips were soft and pliant, and they felt real. Jefferson felt himself come alive after the kiss, his heart pounding wildly.

He smiled. “Belle, I—”

She raised her hand and delivered a vicious slap to his face, retreating a few steps.

She pressed her fingertips to her lips and glared at him, her face flushing in anger. “I know that a kiss isn't a form of greeting here, so why did you do it without my permission?”

She was flustered and didn't know how to tell him off, so she threw the green roses at his chest before running into campus with her suitcase in tow.

Jefferson was still reeling from the slap and remembered that his actions had been inappropriate for their first meeting. He held the flowers to himself and gave chase. “I'm sorry, Belle. I can explain...”

Ringo watched as they ran into school in tandem and wondered in bewilderment if he should follow them.

Forget it. Mr. Hamilton is going after his girl. I wouldn't be of much help if I pursued them.

When Jefferson awoke the next morning, he realized he was still at the Terblanc residence and was certain it wasn't a dream. He composed himself and thought about how to apologize to Isabelle and woo her once more.

Jefferson, who would always skip classes, started religiously attending them again and tried looking for opportunities to cross paths with Isabelle to explain the kiss that day.