Above her head, Watt Bennet gazed at her intensely, deeply, like the vast ocean.
Such a look from him made Summer Sutton suddenly feel a bit dazed.
Staring at him absentmindedly for a while, Summer Sutton's stiff hand was raised and gently stroked his face.
Her hand was soft, with a slight warmth.
Her fingertips delicately traced the contours of his face. She seemed to be somewhat enamored with his warmth, and once her hand touched him, it didn't intend to move away.
Seeing her calm down, Watt Bennet assumed that she was clear-headed.
Unexpectedly, as Summer Sutton's hand caressed his face, she suddenly blurted out, "Your voice sounds so familiar...like that guy, who is it?"
Racking her brain, she tried very hard to think.
All the expressions on Watt Bennet's face froze in an instant.
He could condone Summer Sutton's impudence in front of him, indulge her unreasonable antics, tolerate all her willfulness.
