Then he got her coat and said, "It's just me going tomorrow, you don't need to go."
He placed the coat on Hannah's lap.
Hannah lifted her arm, which was in a cast, "I'm injured, how am I supposed to wear a coat?"
Her round eyes gazed in the night, lacking the spirited charm of daytime, appearing only soft and obedient, yet somewhat capricious.
This was the second compromise Wayne Lane made today, "Then lift your arm, and I'll help you put it on."
"It might stretch the wound." Hannah was deliberately being contrary with Wayne Lane.
Perhaps it was fate that they would be enemies.
As youths, they bickered and opposed each other, and as they grew up, it escalated to a matter of life and death.
After all, they're just not meant to stay together forever.
Wayne Lane fell silent for a while, then stepped back, "Then just drape it over."
He covered her with the coat, then withdrew his hand, intending not to concern himself further.
