Flowers Bouquet

Ch.3 Dissappearance!

✨️ Previously: ✨️

Althea knew the killer of the two murder crimes who is the old woman from the magic shop and how she's a liar about the broken locks, but she's still wondering about what happened to the girl, or rather how she got killed. Fear brought nightmares and the scent of the flowers, even made her unable to sleep and couldn't go to the college.
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💡✨️ Let's continue...✨️💡
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She was in the bathtub while peaches blossoms helps her to relax. At Downstairs, in the kitchen, Nathan was cooking for them both. He arrived at noon and quickly went to her. She told him about what happened, and his reaction was scolding her about going to that shop after what had said in the news.
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Note💡: Scolding mean: the act of speaking angrily to someone because you disapprove of their behaviour.
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But, she stopped him before he continued scolding her because she got enough and won't bear to hear more than what her parents said. She got downstairs, wearing black jeans and a white shirt, while her hair was parted to the right. She sat at the kitchen bar and stared into space.
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* Look! I'm afraid for you, Althea. If you really love me, try to stop reading these books. It's not the first time for this to happen to you.* Nathan held her hand and talked with a quiet tone that shows how much he's afraid for her.

* But...* in a low voice, she talked.

* You shouldn't go there at all. What if someone saw you! What if the old woman saw you! I don't know what your parents' reaction would be, but for me... I would die if something bad happened to you.* he interrupted her talk and talked while he's squeezing her hand, worrying about her.
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She's really feeling her fault, but she can't go over their talk about forgetting about reading. Is it her fault that she loves reading?!... after they ate their food, they hanged out a little, but enjoying wasn't there this time. She was sad, frustrated, and losing her desire of everything. She stayed pretending that she's happy and excited.
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💡Ask me about that!... I was hating writing novels because of my mom used to talk about how I much care about writing after coming back from work and all what I do in my whole life is just writing. That made me hate to write, and even if I wanted, I wait for her to sleep until I can write. Even the simple detail that make your day someone suddenly makes you hate doing it.