Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

Chapter 313 Pretty

Deirdre lifted her head and pursed her soft lips into a polite smile.

She was mesmerizing. Despite the absence of life in her damaged eyes, something in her face radiated. It summoned a wave within Kyran’s chest so violent that he had to press his lips thin to battle the urge.

He extended his fingertip and wrote on her palm, ‘No need.” Then, a moment later, he wrote, ‘Sorry for last time.”

Deirdre stiffened a little, then she understood him. He was talking about their meeting during the musical. He had hurt her forehead.

“It’s okay,” Deirdre replied, smiling. “I misunderstood you, that’s all. You just wanted to help. Besides, my forehead was pretty much healed by nighttime.”

The man gave no response for a long beat before writing. I’m still sorry.”

He knew how uncomfortable Deirdre was when a stranger touched her, so he had been writing on her palm with a tin layer of tissue between his finger and her skin. His fingertip lingered in the middle of her hand before waltzing around to form a string of words, tickling her.

so trivial and insignificant. He would never treat

come here just to apologize?” She wondered aloud. It would make sense, after all. Kyran was not one of the villagers. He could not

on her palm,

instead! It was going to be a nasty fall

‘Help you,’ he said.

gardening

already scooping up dirt and soil. She

The silence eased her, and she began to enjoy her rare break. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself

Deirdre felt someone watching her. Kyran

her? “Oh God, that was… Sorry. You were so quiet, I forgot

thought for a moment and proceeded

beautiful when she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the sun. He thought she was beautiful in her authenticity-there was not

the time she recovered, she realized belatedly that the tips of her ear had turned scarlet. It had been a while since she heard anyone praise her-Tobey never tried to compliment her outright of course, it was likely

yet, there was an overwhelming wave of sincerity in every stroke of his finger, as though he