Hannah just stared at him quietly, her gaze laden with puzzlement.
Her pupils were darker than the pitch-black night, yet paradoxically, they seemed all the more lucid, looking as deep as a shattered starry sky.
Hayes blurted out as if possessed, "Hannah Winter, are you wearing colored contact lenses?"
Otherwise, why would her eyes look so beautiful?
It was a bizarre question and, after asking it, Hayes wanted to slap himself.
Hannah frowned, her face a mix of seriousness and concern, "Hayes, have you lost your mind?"
Feeling the heat rush to his head and aware of the scrutinizing gazes of those around, Hayes hurriedly straightened up and averted his gaze, murmuring without much force: "No."
The assistant beside hastily tidied up the scripts and materials that Hayes had knocked over earlier.