I couldn't tell if it was just my imagination, but there seemed to be a flicker of frustration in his eyes.
“Help me.” Quillon swung his arm effortlessly, his cane tapping the floor with a sharp click.
I placed my hand on his arm as the rhythmic sound of the cane echoed through the space.
Quillon guided me forward to stand before them. “I've brought a small gift, just a gesture of respect.”
Quillon’s simple words were enough for him to place the gift directly into Astrid's hands.
Before Astrid could even thank him, he had already stepped into the venue.
The way he moved, so skilled and confident, made it hard to believe he was blind.
Lucian grasped my hand tightly and, in a low voice, asked, “You’re wearing such high heels. Are you planning to run in them?”
I furrowed my brows, confused by the sudden question, wondering what exactly was behind his words.
But when I turned around to look at Quillon, stumbling as he moved blindly, I couldn't help but feel worried.
"Mr. Prescott, maybe you should focus on your own girlfriend," I said quickly, then rushed to catch up and took Lucian’s hand.