Chapter 1347: What Did You Dream About?
Her head still hurt badly, and when she suddenly got up, a wave of dizziness hit her, causing her to fall back again.
A low, muffled laugh reached her ears, and amidst her dizziness, she fell back into Matthew Saxon’s embrace.
Just as she tried to pull away from his arms again, his cool fingers landed on her chin, gently pinching it, lifting her head up.
At this angle, she was looking up, and Matthew was looking down, their gazes locked together.
Scarlett wanted to avoid it, but she couldn’t escape.
The fingers clamped on her chin held her head firmly, preventing her from having a chance to run away.
"Matthew Saxon, what are you doing?" Scarlett was a bit annoyed, biting her lip, glaring at him fiercely, "Let go of me. Don’t you think I like Maxwell Saxon? Don’t you hope I marry Maxwell? Since you care so little about me, don’t always act so ambiguously with me."
His mood was indeed just like the ever-changing weather.
Before she got drunk, he had a cold attitude towards her, but after she woke up, his attitude had changed again.
The way he looked at her was no longer so indifferent.
His gaze... how to say it... was a bit peculiar, his eyes bright and twinkling, as if hiding something deep within.
Scarlett could not decipher it, nor did she want to.
She was still angry.
Even after getting drunk and sleeping, the sense of depression in her heart had not dissipated.
Thinking about how he didn’t care at all if she married Maxwell Saxon, her heart still felt pierced, as if the needle that initially stabbed her heart hadn’t been pulled out, causing a sharp pain with each breath she took.
"Scarlett Yates." Matthew Saxon stared at her with those peculiar eyes for a moment, and softly called her name.
The tone of this soft call was strange, as if he were desperately suppressing something.
His gaze was as deep as the ocean, steadily fixed on her, his eyes bright.
This kind of gaze felt somewhat unfamiliar to her.
Sometimes, when Matthew looked at her, his eyes would also brighten, but it was different from now.
She couldn’t describe the feeling, but she could clearly distinguish it.
"What did you dream about?" He paused for a moment, then threw out a very strange question.
Scarlett was taken aback, blinked, furrowed her brows, and looked at him silently.
The fingers pinching her chin applied a little force, and he softly repeated the question, "Tell me, after you got drunk, what did you dream about?"
"What I dream about, what does it have to do with you? Anyway, you won’t care."
He actually asked her what she dreamed about.
It was indeed peculiar; he didn’t care about her as a person, would he actually care about her dreams?
"Tell me." Matthew Saxon gently furrowed his brows, a hint of urgency in his eyes, suddenly leaning closer to her, his long phoenix eyes tightly staring at her, his bright eyes scanning back and forth on her face as if trying to find something from her visage.
Scarlett’s inner doubts deepened.
Initially, she thought it was just her illusion, but when Matthew Saxon asked the same question three times in a row, she perceived that Matthew was indeed acting strangely.
He seemed deeply concerned about what dream she had, an interest that exceeded normal bounds.