Maria
Harry's own laughter had brought tears to his eyes, and he wiped them with his sleeve, Jackson sat, seething and unable to find the fun in their rather unfortunate situation.
"Call it whatever you want, Call it whatever you want!" He stood, his back hunched and his balled fist on the table, banging hard, hard enough that the bottle before them threatened to tip over. "I will not let go of that woman! I will not! Slowly and steadily, I'd make my way into her heart and she will love me!" He bit on his bottom lips, his eyes laced with a blazing red. Harry walked around the square room, his hand pressing against his forehead.
This psychotic version of his brother sure was a new one. It's always
Bab Populer