Her voice was soft and weak, the words she spoke left people defenseless, like a breeze gently ruffling the most tender parts of one's heart.
Keane Lowell turned around, his gaze tenderly settling on her tipsy, lovely demeanor.
Her exquisite face blushed with a hint of red, as if shrouded in a mesmerizing mist, ethereal and captivating, her gaze looked so innocent.
"How much did you drink? Your tolerance is so poor."
But she insisted, "Who says I can't hold my liquor? I can drink more. I haven't even toasted with you yet."
Saying that, she pulled him back to the dining table, picked up their glasses, gave one to him, and then clinked them with a force neither too light nor too heavy, "Cheers."
Keane didn't stop her this time and drank the remaining wine with her.
"Are you satisfied, baby?"
The young girl hesitated for a moment, then rolled up her sleeves and showed her arm to him, "Did you see that? I've got goosebumps, it's too cheesy."
In fact.
