My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)

The sound of her high-heels left me petrified. By the time I came to my senses, the woman had wrapped me in her arms.

"Arianna, it's really you! I thought Cyril had mistaken you for somebody else!"

I had no idea what was going on at all, and I was held motionlessly by her. After a long time, I asked hesitantly, "I'm sorry, Miss. You..." "You don't have to be so courteous, I'm Freya!"

Freya let go of me and sized me up, and her eyes reddened in an instant. "You've lost so much weight that I could hardly recognize you!"

After being in a coma for six years, the drastic change in my appearance came as no surprise. Moreover, the lack of rest the night before further contributed to my sallow complexion.

Although I had been staring at her for quite a while, I still couldn't recall who she was or if we were acquainted in any way. "You're Freya?"

"Yes, that's me, Freya Moore..." As she spoke, her voice gradually softened. Soon, she was unconsciously choked up in tears.

The carefree-looking woman suddenly lowered her head as she wiped her tears away.

Following that, she simply did not hide her urge to whine. Her voice was full of indignation.

you look for me when you came back? Do you know how hard it

"Freya."

Seeing this, he put his hand on

his face that I recognized him. He was Cyril Zimmer, whom I had met in the

two of them were

that Miss

bitterly at the moment,

calling? Do you think you can

look like a

to invite

the bathroom to touch up her ruined makeup.

them to leave and personally poured tea into Freya and Cyril's cups. S~ᴇaʀᴄh

staring at me without blinking, as if I would disappear in the blink of

by her burning, unshifting gaze. The only response I could offer was an apologetic