The thin glass brim grazed Brian's hand.
His blood from the cut flowed slowly into the wine along the glass and the rust-like smell mixed with the
aroma of the wine.
The mixed odor enveloped the air, making the situation more dire and awkward. Molly could not tell
what her real feelings were anymore.
She was taken aback by his sudden action and her small mouth opened slightly. Her bright, beautiful
eyes widened as she stared at the blood permeating from his hand. She was so stunned that she could
not react for a while.
But Brian did not move. He ignored his bleeding hand as though it didn't hurt him at all. He eyed Molly
with his eagle-like eyes as if she was the prey that he desired but could never get his hands on. Seeing
her surprised facial expression, he was overwhelmed by complicated emotions, which even he could
not sort out. He felt irritable, jealous as well as annoyed. But he tried to hide these feelings under the
gloom of his eyes so that no one would know what he really felt.
Molly gulped slowly because of the tense atmosphere. She looked up from Brian's hand gingerly and
found his face covered in anger. All his strange actions scared her. At that very moment, she truly felt
that Brian was a lunatic.
Resentment and grief gripped her, along with immense exhaustion. She was outraged, but could not let
it all out. She gasped for air harder. Everyone had their limits, so did Molly.
What was wrong in wanting to go back home?
Why he was so angry for that?
She could not even talk. All she wanted was to just go home as early as possible to get some comfort
and consolation. Was that wrong?
After a round of tiring thoughts, she felt a lump forming in her throat. Molly was at her limits and she
wanted to burst open and cry her heart out. She even forgot that she did not want her family to know
that she could not talk temporarily. She was worried about her father. She always wondered if
something bad had happened to her dad, although he had done so much to hurt her. They were family.
And nothing could change that fact.
Her eyes were turning red as tears threatened to fall from her brooding eyes. She tried so hard to avoid
crying out by biting her lips and keeping them closed. But the more she tried, more tears gathered in
her eyes, as if there was a raging river waiting to overflow. She looked a Brian without blinking.
Seeing her controlled, yet cute facial expressions, Brian's heart softened a little. His eyes turned
merciful rather than the abhorrence and disgust it was showing at first. However, even with that little
empathy in his heart, he still tried not to show any of it on his face. He blindly refused to accept that he
had such feelings for her.
Her chest quivered as her rage grew and her hands were clutched into fists. She was so irritated that
she was not afraid of Brian anymore. Even though Brian's inky eyes were fixated on her, she did not
back down; she looked at him angrily and refused to avert her beady eyes.
After what seemed like a long time, her anger was still undiminished as it steadily grew stronger, she
took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Then she forced herself to break eye contact with him and
turned back to go upstairs.
"Stay here!" Brian ordered firmly with an even lower voice, which sounded cold and serious. Even with
a heater in the room, his aura seemed to freeze everything around him. However, Molly did not care at
all and continued to go upstairs without stopping. Brian's eyes got darker as if they were covered by
black clouds. He opened his thin mouth and said in a cold-blooded, resolute and indubitable manner,"I
said stay there! Didn't you hear me?"
Molly stopped and stood on the step. However, she did not turn back to look at him. She loathed him at
the moment. She stood still, like a stiff pillar. If not for the quivering due to extreme indignation, she
would have looked like a lifeless statue.
Molly's face had turned pale because she was trying so hard to constrain her anger and grievance. She
bit her lips hard again for the sake of inhibiting her emotions and to avoid crying out. She bit it so hard
that her lips were almost ready to bleed. As her eyelashes shivered, she fixated her gaze somewhere
in front of her to shift her focus away from the overwhelming emotions. She tried to immerse herself
into a distant place like searching for the log on the ocean after a sea peril. At the same time, the sound
of leather shoes hitting the floor was drawing nearer. Molly knew it was him approaching.
Brian walked upstairs in a slow, stable pace. No matter how angry he was, no matter what happened
around him, he was still always able to keep his calm and hide all his emotions. He walked in such an
elegant and easy manner, as if he were not human at all; he was not like any creature that lived on
earth. He could be Satan, the devil who had fallen into hell's darkness, haunting the world and
witnessing the mundane life of people, well-prepared to devour their pure soul at any time he wished.
Molly remained still. She did not want to react. As she heard Brian walking closer and closer, she
scorned. She did not know if she was irked by him or was just irritated by her own emotions.
Brian stopped behind her. Molly narrowed her eyes, trying to control the grievance and swallow down
the sorrow, acting as if nothing had happened. 'I am just a woman dedicated to serving him, an
unimportant toy to pass his time and to make him happy. Even if I show my suffering in front of him, he
won't concern himself about my agony. So why will I continue to bring disgrace to myself ?'
Molly turned around slowly after she had succeeded in eliminating every bit of sadness and grievance
from her face. At least, she thought that she had concealed all her emotions. She looked at him
squarely in his eyes. Because she was incapable of speaking, the only reaction she could give him was
to look at him. At that moment, it suddenly came to her mind that if she really had lost the ability to
speak permanently, it would be difficult for her to accept that harsh reality.
As he stared at her streaming eyes, Brian forgot all about his injured hand and just left it hanging
without any care. The blood sprawled across the wound and along his palm. The scarlet blood fell on
the stairway drop by drop like an incessantly leaking tap. The red color coated the stairs, giving out a
strange and horrifying aura, just like a fully bloomed fire-like red plum blossom in a world of ice and
snow. It was beautiful and spectacular, but with a touch of loneliness and misery.
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