He frowned slightly, his tone impatient. "What now? The kiss was just for the show. If you're overthinking it, that's on you."
I looked up at his face—the striking features I once adored. His sharp brows, high nose bridge and naturally upturned lips.
Everything I used to be so obsessed with, why did it suddenly become so uninteresting?
I didn't know if my voice was still trembling.
I said, "Simon, I will forget you in 23 days."
He smirked. "Here we go again, Claire. The same lie twice—do you think I'll fall for it? If you're sick, go get treatment. Don't threaten me."
After that, he turned and walked away without hesitation, leaving me alone.
His retreating figure overlapped with the memory of the boy I once knew, then slowly drifted apart.
In my memory.
I had once leaned against his chest and asked him, "Simon, I have a strange illness that makes me lose my memories every three years. If I forget you one day, what will you do?"
Simon hugged me tightly and gently kissed the top of my head as if I were a treasure.
"Then I'll stay by your side until you remember me again."
The mountain wind was fierce and cold, howling through the camp.