Chapter 35: Surrounded by a rapt crowd, Allison gently picked up a piece of clay and sprinkled it with water.

It was then that Kellan realized that she had been deliberately slowing her pace to guide him through the basics.

In less than a minute, the clay in his hands had already begun to transform.

The art of sculpting gave way to the precision of carving.

It's like watching a movie, someone murmured, amazed.

Colton and Melany, who had previously ridiculed Allison, were now showing visible signs of anxiety, their foreheads glistening with sweat.

They scrutinized her every move, wary of any hint of deception.

Kellan expected Allison to need his help, but she only occasionally asked him to pass her a file.

Take the smallest one, he ordered calmly, his voice a firm anchor in the charged atmosphere.

His hands moved with deliberate grace and the clay seemed to yield to his touch, coming to life under his skillful fingers.

Kellan held out the file more.

small behind.

In that fleeting contact, he once again perceived the scent of plum blossoms that she gave off.

A lump formed in his throat and he gently wiped the sweat from Allison's forehead with a clean handkerchief, gently brushing his fingers against her forehead.

smooth skin.

As he removed his hand, he felt a strange sense of familiarity.

He marveled that her skin could be as smooth and fine as porcelain.

absorbed in her work,

a piece of clay fell away and her thin fingers moved

soft brushstroke breathed life into the clay, capturing the essence of a majestic

if they were the last two people on earth, along with

no

serene space that seemed to alleviate the constant restlessness that ran

enigmatic, young but extremely serene, distant and distant,

Kellan was amazed.

he had

disarmed him and

her most fervent moments, her gaze had been as distant as an ancient glacier, motionless in

way to a

breathlessness around them was

Colton, who had anticipated Allison's failure, was now struggling to process the scene

How can it be.

.

.

remembered the little ceramic dog that

of nostalgia, he had smashed it to pieces

had splintered into pieces, possibly severing his

.

.

or maybe not.

.

.

moment, his

become even more reserved and had not offered him anything

felt a pang of regret, realizing she might have overlooked something

the

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