His eyes held shadows like ink, enveloping his brown pupils, like a swirling vortex, making him look faintly mad.
Daisy said, "I have always been myself."
"The perfect woman you imagine is just a fantasy you've crafted, with embellishments and exaggerations. Don't absurdly impose those ideas on me; it's very childish and makes you seem immature."
Ian Linton smiled faintly, as if indifferent.
This person was stubbornly biased, possessed with a mania that couldn't be reasoned with in just a few words.
Ian Linton stood before her, gazing deeply at her.
His expression gradually turned gentle and affectionate, the shadows in his pupils dispersed, revealing a clear gaze that made Daisy unconsciously recall the first time they met.
The boy, as gentle as jade, in white clothes and black pants, stood before the elders, giving her a shy, gentle smile.
