Cry, Even Better If You Beg

Chapter 49: Like A Wing

“This hairstyle doesn’t suit you.”

Matthias immediately said the moment their eyes met.

His remark startled Layla. Momentarily bewildered, she mused over his words, grasping the mocking nature of it in an instant.

‘This man! Is he trying to pick a fight again?’

“I know. My hair is a little… untidy.”

Leyla said sharply, in response to his unsought criticism.

“A little?”

Matthias scoffed, eyes scrutinizing her from top to bottom. Under his disdainful stare, Leyla squeezed at her bike handles, fighting the urge to run away. Her inability to restrain the strange emotions stirring in her heart as she stood in front of him was already upsetting to her—Leyla refused to look like such an easy target, blushing at just the sight of a man.

“Why don’t you untie your hair?”

“I’d like to, but they said I won’t look like a proper teacher.”

“Who?” He asked, forehead creasing with suspicion.

“The headmistress,” Leyla replied. As his eyes lingered on her, she averted her gaze, cheeks heating up into a rosy red.

“She said that if I look too young, I wouldn’t seem like a teacher with authority.” She continued hesitantly, fearful that the profound silence between them would make things even more awkward. “So the headmistress advised me not to have a ‘student-like’ hairstyle.”

Matthias burst into laughter the moment she stopped speaking, a faint chuckle that sounded like a soothing breeze. Ears burning, she continued to avert her gaze, feeling like a fool.

With a scoff, Matthias looked down at the petite woman standing before him.

“So that windswept, tied-up hair is a symbol of a teacher’s authority…” he drawled, full to the brim with sarcasm. Hurt pride flashed across her face, and he dranked in the coy yet cute expression.

“I’m practising a lot, so I’ll get better at styling my hair soon.” Her quick retort, filled with the same pride he saw, left him momentarily transfixed.

‘This woman never wants to give in even if it kills her, doesn’t she?’

Amused by her persistence, Matthias smirked once more.

“Well then, let’s see.”

“I’m absolutely sure that I can do this. And if my skill doesn’t get any better…I’ll just cut it short.”

“Cut it?”

The beam fell off Matthias’s face at her words. When he saw Leyla nodding, absorbed in thought, his eyes narrowed as if he was witnessing something truly horrible.

“Yes. I’d look a lot more mature, and….”

“Don’t cut it.”

His demand was oddly soft and calm.

Puzzled and annoyed, Leyla shot him a look. “Don’t tell me, I need your permission to grow or cut my hair?” She groused.

“Your hair… it’s beautiful.”

It was a stupefying reply to an irate question that was nearly impossible to believe.

Above all…. It sounded ridiculous.

Doubting her ears, Leyla frowned at him. Matthias looked back at her, calm in the face of her agitation.

“It’s like a wing.”