The café was filled with warm, humid air.
Norris Moore had just drunk a cup of milk tea. He couldn't stomach coffee, so when it was brought over, he simply held it in his hand to warm his palms.
Trenton Smith picked up his coffee and sipped it calmly, sitting there watching Norris.
"When do you plan to go back?" he set down his coffee and asked.
Norris looked at the rising steam in the palm of her hand, "This week, I guess."
Trenton's fingers unconsciously tightened a little. He felt a faint reverberation in the empty space of his heart due to that response—as if a pebble had been dropped into a very deep well, producing a kind of echo.
A kind of lonely vastness.
He closed his eyes slightly, not quite knowing how to deal with her departure.
That demonic force within him still existed; of course, he could still use various methods to force her to stay—just like what he had done to her before, employing threats and temptations, by any means necessary, to make her stay.