Burning Passion: Love Never Die

Blair wondered who had come to their floor so early in the morning.

A girl in a school uniform appeared. Seeing Wesley, who was about to close the door of his apartment, she ran to him as she called, “Uncle W

– Who are you?” She paused when she saw Blair.

Blair recalled that this was the same girl who had been to Wesley’s place the other night. This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Wesley saw Megan. He called, “Megan, come in.”

“Okay. Uncle Wesley, who is she?”

“My neighbor,” Blair heard him reply.

“Oh, that’s why she is here.” Megan gave Blair one more look as the door was shut behind them.

All of a sudden, Blair felt Like what she had been doing all along had been pointless. She had been trying so hard to pursue him, but to him, she was only a neighbor. Not even a friend.

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She had been so forward with him, giving him all kinds of signals, but he remained indifferent towards her.

‘Maybe he really doesn’t like me. I’m such a loser.’

That evening, Blair had dinner with Hartwell. She told him what had happened in the Library. He picked up some food from the bowl and put it on her plate. Then he said, “I heard that you had heatstroke yesterday. It’s been really hot outside Lately. And as a junior, you don’t even have to attend the military training. So, why were you running in the sun?”

Blair wasn’t surprised that Hartwell knew about her sunstroke.

“Our substitute guidance counselor has been picking on me, so I mixed up some paint and told her that it was coffee. I convinced her to drink it. She was pissed, and made me and Joslyn do a five-kilometer run in the sports ground. The worst part was that she left us in the hands of the well-known, devil-like military instructor, Wesley. You already know what happened after that-I got sunstroke.”

“Wesley?” Hartwell frowned.

“He is known for being harsh, but every one of his soldiers turns out to be excellent. I’m not surprised that you got sunstroke if he was your military instructor.”

“Me neither,” Blair seconded.

Hartwell laid his chopsticks down on the table and said, “Wesley goes to see my father very often. I’ll ask my father to talk to him and your substitute guidance counselor.”

“Thanks, Hartwell, but that’s not necessary. I’m fine now. Besides, he saved my life in the library,” said Blair

“I don’t know exactly what happened in the library, but he is a serviceman. He would have saved anybody under the circumstances.”

Hartwell’s words came as a wet blanket. Blair had been eating, but she paused when she heard that. Her spirits dampened even further. She knew that she had been fooling herself into thinking that Wesley cared about her, and that now it was time to wake up.

“You’re right. As it happens,

I was the one being held as the hostage that day. Anyway, why don’t we move on?”

Hartwell studied her face; there was nothing unusual about her expression.

“Have you gotten used to Living alone? You’re too stubborn, you know. I told you not to move out, but you insisted.”