"You love me, why don't you love me well?" His cold fingertips pinched her chin. He had never been willing to hurt her, but this time he used force like a revenge.
He sneered as if he was self-deprecating. His usually gentle eyebrows seemed a little confused at this moment, and his tone was cold: "Yes, you only love yourself. You don't deserve my love at all."
His fingertips gradually left her face, inch by inch, making her feel flustered for no reason.
"I regret it, I was wrong, don't..." She grabbed his bony hand in panic. She had held those hands many times, but never once did she feel so cold.
He slammed her hand away and looked at her with disgust: "You clearly know my bottom line, but you trample on it without hesitation. I always tell myself that you can't be so cruel, and tell myself that I believe in you. What I got in the end is just my own passion."
"In this world, you are the only one who likes me the most, and you are the one who knows the least about praise." He left, taking away the white crane jade pendant he gave her.
However, no one saw that his usually steady steps were now stumbling awkwardly.
Intention: the choice between love and responsibility