"I've said many things in the desert; how would I know which remark you're referring to?"
Sophie Sullivan rolled her eyes at him irritably, planting both hands on his chest and pushing him a couple of times. "Get up, you're terribly heavy…"
Thomas Shannon's thin lips pressed tightly together, a cold chill emanating from the depths of his eyes.
He lay down beside her, hands cushioning the back of his head, seemingly deep in thought. Suddenly, he chuckled again.
Sophie was rendered speechless.
The man's dark, deep eyes locked onto hers, his voice low and oppressive. "Do you need me to remind you?"
She had no words.
"You said you liked me too!"
Sophie was obviously flustered. "You… you were on the verge of death then, weren't you? You asked if I liked you even a little. I was afraid you'd die just like that, so I wanted to comfort you, to let you die without regrets… Ah—"
Before she could finish, her chin was seized.
