Love Unspoken

Alexander supported Quinn's waist with one hand, threw the cigarette into the ashtray with the other hand, and extinguished it with the water in the cup.

Sitting back down, he held her waist with both hands, gazing into her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Quinn hugged his neck, her gaze sweeping over every inch of skin on his face, then shook her head and let go of him.

But the next moment, she got up again, sat on his lap, and gestured. "You seem to be getting old."

Alexander didn't say anything, unsure of what to say.

For an eleven-year-old Quinn, 29-year-old Alexander did seem a bit old.

For those who had children early, the children would be around ten years old by now.

After a while, Alexander held her hand, smoothed the stray hair by her ear, and whispered, "Yes, you are getting younger."

Quinn didn't understand. Her eyes filled with confusion.

Alexander tugged at the corner of his mouth, drawing a bitter curve.

He lifted Quinn and placed her back on the bed. "Alright, it's time to sleep."

head.

eyes; how could she possibly fall

said, lifting her and placing

his neck, becoming more and

wasn't

a moment, then got onto

leaned against the headboard. Quinn rested her head on his chest, her hands around his waist, and her legs draped over him,

the exposed collarbone, then looked up to see Adam's apple. But

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face against his chest, feeling the rise and

coolness; occasionally, the sound of the

decoration that made the interior

exuded an

the man's heartbeat, she

closed her eyes, she would dream,

the dream she was

eyes again, it was

in Alexander's arms, her hands tightly around him, and he was