COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
Lance sighed at my stubbornness.
“What do you even like about me anyway?” he asked with a snappy tone. “I’m a kid, not even a man yet. You’re even taller than me, even without your three inches’ heels. I don’t have a company of my own. I’m not a multi-billionaire. I’m not even that handsome.”
Lance’s eyes never strayed on my face, watching my every expression.
I fumbled my fingers as I continued to lower my gaze. “I . . . until I met you . . . I have never done anything crazy. I was the calm, collected, prim, and proper. It was completely out of character for me . . .”
I then laughed a bit. “You are too short. Too arrogant and rude for a kid. You are too young for me. Too immature for my taste . . . Yet, all of it did not matter when you gave me that platinum card on that stormy night . . .”
My eyes shot to his, misty but determined.
“From then on, you became my whipped cream on top of my frappe. My sugar in my milk. The vanilla in my snacks. The cream in my chocolate. You are everything I can no longer live without.”
. . .
. . .
He just laughed at my hearty confession. But instead of feeling offended, I was mesmerized upon hearing his laughter that tears fell out from his eyes.
“Sorry . . . sorry . . . it’s just . . . ,” Lance said through laughing, “I never heard such a tasty confession before.”
After a moment of composing himself, he wiped away his tears before looking at me with a serious face.
“Em, thank you for liking me all these years. But . . .”
He gave me a long hard stare. Eyes a little pleading.
“Give up. We can still be friends if you give up.”
I force a smile in turn, which did not reach my eyes.
“I can never be friends with someone I fell in love with.”
. . .
. . .
“Uhmm . . . your food?”
The waiter’s voice sliced the heavy silence as he stood there for who knew how long, carrying our food with a complicated face, unsure if it was the right time to disturb us.
Lance nodded, and the foods were served. Afterwhich, the waiter scurried away in a hurry.
We did not talk after that as we eat our food in silence. Lance finished his meal quickly while I forced every bit of morsel down my throat, for I already lost my appetite.
“Em, I have to go,” he said after he paid the bill.
I let him, too exhausted and upset to even care about manners. I never once let any person, except my family, to ever treat me for the reason I did not like to owe anyone.
“Em . . .” He looked at me with an expressionless face, yet worried eyes. “You should forget about me. I’m not worth it. You should find someone better.”
“. . . Why . . . ?” I choked. But he heard me nevertheless as he stopped midway from standing on his seat.
“Why not me?” I stared over at him.
I did not care about dignity, image, and all those ladylike facades anymore.
I wanted to let out these frustrating emotions bottling inside me.
. . .
. . .
Lance stared at me with a frown on his face, which made my tears fell.
“Damn it, woman! Don’t cry . . .”
I wanted to laugh when he panicked, but I was too upset to even utter a word.
Lance crossed the distance between us. He bent his body and wiped away my tears with his thumbs.
My heart tightened at his kind gestures.
I grabbed the opportunity and hugged him, circling my hands on his waist as I pressed my crying face against the comfort of his abdomen. I knew he was shocked when his body stiffened. He did not expect that I would suddenly hug him.
“Shhh . . . don’t cry . . .”
He coaxed with a gentle voice when I started to sob –– like uncontrollably. He tapped my back with trembling hands like he did not know what to do.
Eventually, he gave up in coaxing me as he let me cried my heart out.
I did not know his rejection could be this unbearable.
. . .
. . .
“Are you alright now?” Lance asked after a long silence.
I nodded my head and wiped my tears with the back of my palm.
“I . . . *hiccup . . . I’m . . . *hiccup . . . sorry . . . *hiccup . . . clothes . . . wet . . .”
Lance held his mouth, suppressing a laugh.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re a mess.”
He chuckled and grabbed a tissue and wiped away the mucus running from my nose. I was too upset to even be embarrassed. I let him took care of me like a toddler being taken care of by her mom.
“Come on up. Let’s go back to school.”
He held me by the arm and forced me to my feet. His warm hand against my bare skin turned my legs into jelly, and I stumbled against his chest.
He assisted me to stood straight as he said, “Let’s go.”
He then held my hand, leading me out of the restaurant.
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