The room quieted down, with only their breaths slowly flowing.
The moisture that had gathered at the bottom of his eyes finally merged into tears, falling from his eyes onto the marble floor.
Amanda Smith, who had been standing silently in front of him, suddenly sighed.
She slowly walked towards him in his trembling line of sight.
Then she reached out and held him.
"Fool," she whispered, her face pressed against his chest, "I once thought about killing you too. Loving you so much that I wanted to kill you. That was a long time ago."
It was a matter of the distant past, twisted by excessive love.
She held him tightly, feeling his shivering, her heart softened with a slight pain, "Don't be scared, Samuel, don't be afraid... You won't hurt me, don't be scared..."
More than his own illness, he worried that he might hurt her.
Knowing this, she couldn't blame him even a bit.
