In that instant, Cherish Turner's timid, shy, and slightly nervous face was imprinted in William Griffith's eyes, unable to dissipate. The blurry image suddenly became an imprint, engraving itself into his mind as if it could never be erased. The burning cigarette in his hand produced a white smoke that permeated the air.
Cherish cautiously looked at him, her gaze darting back and forth, not daring to make eye contact with him.
Her heart thumped wildly.
Cherish clenched her fists in doubt and looked at him. His handsome face had no expression, always making it impossible to see the real him. He suddenly got up and walked towards her step by step. She was a little scared and wanted to run away, but she couldn't move at all.
Maybe, maybe she was waiting for something still.