"Charles, what are you thinking? Why aren't you speaking?" Zoe Yale noticed his distant expression, sat up from his embrace, and cupped his face with her hands.
"..." Charles had just been immersed in memories and, raising his head, met her pure gaze.
He suddenly snapped back to reality.
"Nothing, just thinking about some pictures I often dream of." Charles's thin lips parted slightly.
Yes.
Often dreaming.
Before he met Zoe Yale, almost every night when he slept, he would dream about the same girl as long as he dreamt.
He would even dream of talking to that little girl.
Yet he could only hear his own voice, unable to hear what she was saying or see what she looked like...
Sometimes, he suspected that perhaps there was really such a person in his life, only he had forgotten about her.
But he remembered everything from his childhood and didn't feel like he had forgotten anything.
