Resurrecting the Genius Within

Behitrecting the genius Witton

Chapter 451 Present

Yeah, I’d rather feed the dogs.

He always works to get what he wants.

George’s gaze locked with hers, a gentle conviction in his deep voice as he uttered, “Even sans the cake, dreams find their way.” He paused, sincerity coloring his words. “This year, my birthday wish still echoes for your well–being.”

Isabelle’s serene eyes flitted with understanding.

His sincerity mirrored in his eyes as he spoke softly, “Remember last year? You gave me your wish last year, and I’ll add that to this one; both entwined with the thread of your safety.”

Isabelle’s lips parted slightly, curiosity gleaming, “What was your original intention

then?”

George confessed, his gaze momentarily averted, “Originally, it was selfish, but now, your safety encompasses my greatest selfish desire.”

“Not the answer to my question,” Isabelle said.

With a slight dip of his gaze, George confessed, “To wish for your affection.”

In Liam’s castle, that was his initial thought, yet her gift of wish was too precious, untouched by his reluctance, a testament to his resolve to earn it himself.

Isabelle remained composed, “And?”

In retrospect, it felt superfluous, thus remained dormant, untouched.

There was a moment of silence before George spoke with solemnity, “To ask for your hand in marriage.”

In the vicinity of Isabelle’s abode, beneath the canopy of stars, she halted him, sealing the moment with a kiss. In that fleeting embrace, hope blossomed, intertwining with the desire for a promising future together, the fervent wish to make her his wife soaring within him..

his fervent wish was simply

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for a shared future.

more important than her safety,

destiny was a creation of man, impervious to the whims

wish extended beyond mere safety; it encompassed

of their shared space, the rhythm of George’s shower serving as a backdrop to her reverie. Her gaze wandered upward, lost in

shut in peaceful repose. His movements were gentle as he draped the blanket over her form, his

her presence, an inexplicable desire stirring within

her was strong, he hesitated, wary of disrupting her rest or unsettling her peace.

candid confession; would it weigh upon her, burdening her with unwanted

of their improvised performance for the fake Joshua earlier, the absence of a

in marriage, the dismissal of relationships as mere distractions–were they borne of the moment’s heat, or did they reflect deeper

of the heart at this hour, George quelled his

unnecessary concerns.

love, he resolved to spare her the tumult

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Chaput Vit Prasha

to its place, he

the dim light, he gently lifted the covers, slipping beneath

laced with a hint of playfulness, “Mr. Harris, your bed–entry skills are improving

to sleep’s embrace.

closed eyes. Did she catch

her charade endearing, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Relief

practiced case, George countered, “I’d gladly trade the bed for

matured to that extent; if she expressed discomfort, he’d

Isabelle’s silence lingered.

George remained nestled in