You Hit My Heart
Chapter 1302

Chapter 1302

Luther gently stroked her cheek, which was more flushed from the bath.He knew that the hot water intensified the effect of the alcol in hersystem.

Sure enough, she opened her misty eyes, looked at him, and stretchedout her arms to pull him closer, *, handsome, come closer and let mesee.”

Luther inclined his head and smiled low, and indeed, as expected.

As he too got into bed, the weight made the soft bed sink even further.He wrapped his arms around her waist, "Is that close enough?""Mmm." Joyce's eyes contained a dense mist of water as she reachedout to caress his chiseled profile.

"Handsome man, you look like you look familiar. Well, let's see." Shestruggled to recall, looking adorable.

Luther couldn't help but pinch her puffy cheeks, and as much as hewanted to have her at the moment, at least she had to know that hewas who he was.

"So, think about it, who am 1?" He rubbed his long fingers over her lips.Longing for too long, he couldn't resist leaning in and gently touchingher lips.

"Obnoxious." Joyce slapped him drunkenly, " yeah, I remember, you'reobnoxious Luther."

Luther, "..."

Disgruntled, he asked, "How am I annoying?"

Suddenly, he wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to set herwords.

"You're bad, always bullying me ..." she clenched her fist and smashedit into his chest. Too drunk to make a strong effort, smashing out herfist, it was like hitting cotton.

"Bad man, I hate you, I hate you ..." she muttered in a daze.

Luther's heart choked, was this what was in her heart? She had alwayshated him, always hated him, and when the wine came out, she musthave been telling the truth. He felt himself hurt, his heart torn like pain.He put so much effort into it, and in the end, she actually kept hatinghim.

Her cottony fist kept landing on his chest, not hurting at all, but he felt areal sharp pain.

How much more can I try to get her forgiveness?

He was suddenly desperate.

He grabbed her hand, drinking but completely clear black eyes fixed onher, full of pain.

"If you hate me, why didn't you shoot me in the first place?"

He took her hand and pulled it to his heart, pointing to the spot whereshe had shot him last time in front of Charlotte.

"Tell me why you didn't shoot me when you had the chance, if youhated me. You know, as long as it was you who shot me, I willinglysuffered death.” He asked bitterly.

Joyce lifted her confused eyes, she was too drunk.

Completely unaware of what she was doing, she reached out andrepeatedly stroked his cheek.

He held his breath, waiting for her answer. Like waiting for the ultimatejudgment.

It feels like his heart is breaking little by little, is it really impossible torecover from the wounds he once suffered? His eyes, showing sorrowand pain.

She suddenly, gently smiled, "Well. Hate you, but love you more."Luther was stunned and half-heartedly failed to respond.

As if not sure, he asked again, "What did you just say?"

She "giggled" and laughed enchantingly, “Idiot, I said, love you more!"