He sneered. “You’ve always been obsessive. If you could do something as shameless as confessing to me, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do.”
Hearing his sharp words, I clenched my fists and eventually let them go weakly. “I don’t like you anymore. When I get better, maybe I’ll give Hugo a chance.”
His pupils trembled ever so slightly. Then he smiled, like this was the response he’d been waiting for all along.
“Alright, I have to go.” He stood up to leave.
I looked up, and our eyes met.
Freddie had deep–set eyes. When he focused on someone, his eyes were always full of affection.
The pale moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting one side of his face in softness, the other in shadow.
Perhaps the moonlight blurred my eyes and gave me a fleeting illusion.
Freddie’s gaze seemed deep and mournful, as if he were trying to etch my face into his memory.
His dark pupils were like a vast, silent ocean.
I could almost see someone drifting in that black sea on a lonely boat, sobbing uncontrollably.
A sharp ache rose in my chest. I turned away and closed my eyes.
In my heart, I silently said, “Goodbye, Freddie.”