About Your Pride and My Prejudice

Chapter 104: Grief Tastes Like Salt

To me, Alan Leopold was like a glass of poison. The fact was so obvious from the moment I first faced him but I had pretended not to know.

The brilliant liquid, with its brilliant color and aroma, was contained in a glass that was dazzlingly beautiful. He was a poisoned Holy Grail.

The reason why my lips were so dry just looking at Alan was probably because I instinctively knew that I would never spit it out again the moment I put it (the poison (Alan)) in my mouth, even a little bit. The fact that he will run through my veins after drinking and will eventually destroy all of me..

Nevertheless, I succumbed to the splendid Holy Grail. Of course it was voluntary.

It was not enough to dare to drink it with my lips, which I could never bear, and I held it without fear, and swallowed it little by little. I knew the sweet poison was slowly ruining me, but the time I was drunk on him was so ecstatic.

Alan.

I didnt want to let go of that sense. foolishly

I, as expected.

This was enough, Melissa. So please stop this ephemeral and destructive pleasure.

Cant love you.

I managed to make up a normal face, suppressing the rising tears.

If I speak in a fragile voice, Ill be dragged to him as usual. Im sure hell hug me, and Ill melt in his arms.

Hell only come back to the mansion once in a while and hug me, and when dawn comes, Ill have to let him go helplessly. Hes going to give his heart out to someone other than me.

In the first place, Im sure Im a boring woman who comes to mind once in a while, but its so sad that I cant forget the warmth of that small moment and flap like a fish thrown ashore. If its just an ending where Ill dry up ugly and die because of useless love that Ill never have.

I mean it.

.

There was no answer, so I hurriedly added it, but he was silent. Just looked down at me with a long stare.

Alan Leopold is like winter, so hes rarely expressive. What is he thinking now? The idea that Melissa Collins would dare say she couldnt love him?

Or the idea of being ridiculous? Im going to hug him anyway, but Im acting like a kid, right?

Thats weird.

Then, Alan slowly swept my right cheek, which was dripping with tears, with his thumb. It was bare hands without gloves. Pale, straight fingers that feel cool due to low body temperature.

Its only been a few days since you cried with happiness in my arms.

(T/N: during snu snu)

The blue, cold gray eyes glanced slowly as if appreciating me.

It was beautiful and creepy.

Why would you lie like this?

.

He makes me completely defenseless just by his voice. I was barely holding back my desire to cling to his arms any moment.

But can I defeat Alan Leopold?

Alan, I.

My face was helplessly soaked with endless tears. My bewildered gaze followed as the transparent teardrops ran slowly down his fingers and finally down his wrists.

Its really embarrassing. These tears shouldnt make me look like a whining child.

Now all that was left was a way to recall the section of heaven that I had glimpsed in the garden. Its still as clear as the inside of the eyelid, the perfect and holy image of the two lovers.

Then my heart ached. It was no longer difficult to make a vicious voice.

I was looking at something other than you.

He looked at me with an expressionless face. With a pale, cold face that doesnt have any emotions. That cool feeling of pressure seemed to crush my spine. Is he holding back his anger?

Speak clearly, so I can understand you.

.

There was no easy answer to his sarcasm. But I cant help but answer.

Cold eyes like the moon in the night sky catch my gaze like a trap. I felt like my heart was about to explode due to the tight tension, so I moved my trembling lips as if I were exhaling my breath.

I think I love you in my novel, not you.

Ha, Melissa.

He held me by the shoulders and suppressed his sneering. He didnt hold me hard enough to hurt me, but his big hands, shaking with unexpected emotions, could break my bones right away.

Its disgraceful. Its so ridiculous that I might get angry.

But you will never know you are beautiful enough to receive blind love. How much courage it takes to love you like that.

Its true that it started with you, but its different now.

And unfortunately, Im not that strong.

Troy is my ideal. After all, you are Just a shadow of Troy.

Ha.

Alan closed his eyes with a cold laugh. At the same time, his hands, which were holding my shoulders, fell off.

Now, what do you want to do? Are you going to strangle me with that hand? Or will you leave like you did last time?

.

I closed my eyes nervously, but surprisingly, no answer came back. It was clear that he was still standing in front of me without leaving. I can feel his breath and scent even with my eyes closed.

.

Eventually, when I opened my eyes gently, Alan was staring at me with his mouth covered and his head tilted. His eyes were as deep and cold as the abyss.

I had no idea what he was thinking now. The pale-white face, shimmering in the shadow of a candle, looked grave as if he was thinking about something seriously, and eerie as if he were hiding a hideous murderous intent.

Im sorry. I mean it.

It was irresistible to say so. Even though I enjoy daydreaming, deviant romance sometimes makes me feel guilty, as I am only a realistic person.

Its literally a luxury for someone like me to love Alan Leopold. So I have to go back to reality.

I know I might look like a pathetic coward to someone, but theres no other way. I dont want to be hurt. Who in the world likes to be hurt?

All right

At that moment, a chillingly low voice broke the silence. A thin soot fluttered like a long tail over the flames blazing precariously in the dark.

Sleep in my room tonight.

What.

Suddenly all my movements stopped. It was an answer that made my eyebrows narrow.

Its not you that I love, its the man in the novel who looks like you. What kind of interpretation can lead to that kind of answer?

I dont want to.

Why?

In this situation.

My eyelashes were terribly wet. While thinking that it was a miracle that I still had tears to shed, the tears that flowed down my right cheek ran down the corners of my lips and seeped into my mouth.

Doing that with you.

Grief tastes like salt. I became endlessly miserable as if I were standing in front of a distant sea.

I wont.

Then Alan, who bent neatly, wiped away my tears with his fingertips and the back of his hand, not a handkerchief. The touch was strangely persistent.

Yes, I wont do that.

I heard a gentle whisper. A smile as if drawn with the worlds most delicate and soft brush hung on his cheeky lips.

I had the illusion of being a lost child for a moment. I just wanted to hang on to his neck, asking him to take me home.

Something happened.

Then Alan hugged me.

Alan!

So sleep comfortably.

.

Youre going to keep crying like this here.

The low-pitched voice was too cool to be a relief to me. Ive never felt relieved in his arms. Because when he hugged me, my heart would always beat like it would jump out of my chest.

The day will probably never come when I can reach this man and remain calm.

My face was already wet with tears. It was the same with his chest that held me. It was then that I realized that Alans heart was beating so calmly.

Though I thought it was an echo that resembled his voice, I thought that there would be times when this chest would beat uncontrollably fast but it would not be because of me.

A rose garden covered with morning dew. Such a mellow scent takes away even the will to struggle. Whenever I sniffled, he gave me a careful hug and hurried his way to the main house.

In the dark hallway passing by while holding me like a child, the shadows of the bars created by the moonlight stretched endlessly. Only the sound of neat footsteps echoed in the dark.

When we got to the room, he laid me straight on the bed and covered me with a blanket. Even with such a friendly touch, Alan didnt say good night or kiss me on the cheek. He just looked down at me for a moment, turned straight and blew out the candle.

There was such a brief silence. I was blinking blankly in the pitch-black darkness, where my vision did not change even if I closed or opened my eyes.

Then I heard his footsteps again, followed by a quiet door closing. As soon as I felt a sign of moving away toward the far corridor, my eyes, which were drowsy, closed gently.

Is it because I had a hard day, or is it because of the cozy bedding that felt like someones arms? My mind was noisy, but a distant sleep covered me as gently as a feather.

And the next day, I went back to the annex, where last night, I read my novel from beginning to end

What the hell

I found it all burned down.

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