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..

fervent wish was simply

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for a

of danger, nothing else was more important than her safety, even his wish of taking her

to the whims of ghosts or deities. Yet, when it came to Isabelle,

extended beyond mere safety; it

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

repose. His movements were gentle

himself captivated by her presence, an inexplicable desire stirring

her was strong, he hesitated, wary of disrupting her

aftermath of his candid confession; would it weigh upon her,

fake Joshua earlier, the absence of a script, lingered in his mind.

of disinterest in marriage, the dismissal of relationships as mere distractions–were they borne of the moment’s

of the heart at this hour,

unnecessary concerns.

her the tumult of his emotions.

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Chaput Vit Prasha

its place, he retraced his

the covers, slipping beneath them with a quiet resolve.

slumber, Isabelle’s voice pierced the silence, her words laced with a hint of playfulness, “Mr. Harris,

succumbed to sleep’s

George observed her closed eyes. Did she

his lips. Relief washed over him, knowing he

for the couch, but alas, it’s too snug for my

matured to that extent; if she expressed

Isabelle’s silence lingered.

George remained nestled in