Chapter 70 Confession IF Route 2 Is this what you wanted?
Buster's heart tightened suddenly, and as if he had finally heard what Reinhardt said, he grabbed Reinhardt's arm tightly.
"What did you say?" His voice held barely contained anger.
Celine also sensed something was wrong when she heard this.
It was as if Reinhardt was drawing a line between himself and them, preparing in advance for leaving them in the future.
That sounds pretty sad. Celine and the others had long considered Reinhardt a friend and had already assumed he would stay on the ship.
The reason why the others didn't approve of the leader and Reinhard getting too close, to the point of falling in love, was also because of this.
Office romances are highly undesirable. If the two of them have a falling out, or even to the point of breaking up, then in order to avoid further sadness and pain, one of them will inevitably choose to leave.
Although she had no idea that the current situation was caused by Madonna's words.
Of course, Madonna cannot be blamed for this. In the realm of relationships, this was at most a turning point; the final decision and execution were controlled by Buster.
Moreover, Madonna's approach to dating works fine for most people.
Unfortunately, Reinhardt was not a normal person.
Although he is sensitive, he is not insecure, nor does he have many hidden agendas; he prefers to accept and give directly.
This applies to everything, whether it's relationships or anything else.
So when he keenly sensed Buster's retreat, his mindset had already changed.
Perhaps if it were someone else, he wouldn't have reacted or made any preparations in advance, but would have continued to take things as they came with a calm attitude.
But Buster can't.
He can't.
Reinhardt didn't understand why he cared so much, nor did he know why he was targeting Buster specifically.
But right now he just doesn't want to face him, and he doesn't want to say another word to him.
The spot where his arm was restrained began to throb with pain, but Reinhardt remained unfazed and twisted his wrist, trying to break free. However, Buster's strength was too great, and Reinhardt was no match for him.
Silently clenching his fist, Reinhardt gave up struggling and calmly said, "Please let me go."
Buster said coldly, "Explain yourself. What did you mean by that? You still want to leave?"
Reinhardt's silence at this moment only fueled the anger of this already hot-tempered gas canister.
"You hate me that much?" Buster gritted his teeth. "Then what about the nights we spent together? You'd sleep with someone you hate?"
Seeing that the situation was gradually deviating from friendship, Celine wisely stepped aside, leaving the conversation to the two bickering prospective couple.
Reinhardt frowned as he noticed Celine leave.
“We should move on, Mr. Storm.”
Buster got even angrier and stopped calling it by its name, instead calling it Storm!
What do you mean?! Do you really want to cut ties with him?!
Reinhardt was not comfortable wearing a skirt, and as he pressed closer, Reinhardt retreated as he approached.
There were no paths in the forest; tree roots and moss covered the ground, and Reinhardt's high heels were not properly prepared for walking on the muddy and mossy surface.
His foot slipped, and he stumbled and fell into the tree pit.
Buster was still holding onto Reinhardt, but the spot where he was standing was also muddy, so they both fell down.
But he reacted quickly, pulling Reinhardt back into his arms. He braced himself on the ground with one hand and knelt on one knee, quickly creating a safe area.
Reinhardt knew that Buster had protected him once again, but this time, besides gratitude, he felt an overwhelming anger.
I felt powerless and saddened that he had to rely on others, that he wanted to escape Buster, but was saved by him once again.
He is indeed preparing to leave.
"Thank you." His calm voice was tinged with an inexplicable tremor. "Please let me go."
Buster was thick-skinned and tough; the impact with his knee didn't cause him any harm. He hugged Reinhardt tightly, tightening his arms despite the latter's obvious resistance.
“Let me go.” Reinhardt’s tone finally changed. “Are you going to force me like they are, Your Excellency?”
These words pierced Buster's heart, causing him to gasp for breath.
Buster asked incredulously, "In your eyes, am I the same as them? Reinhardt, were all those intimate nights just wishful thinking on my part?"
“I don’t understand what you mean.” Reinhardt suddenly stopped struggling.
He became calm again, like a puppet being manipulated, and said in a calm tone, "After those things happened, wasn't it you who took the initiative to avoid them? Chief, I was just doing as you wished."
Buster, who was tightly embracing Reinhardt, felt a tightness in his back and his heart pounding.
He seemed to understand the reason for Reinhardt's abnormality, and while he was tormented, a sliver of base and complicated joy arose within him.
"Are you bothered by this, Reinhardt? Are you angry because I distanced myself from you?"
Reinhardt remained indifferent.
"Let me go."
Buster straightened up, still kneeling on the ground, released Reinhardt, and let him sit on his lap.
Reinhardt was angry, Buster knew. Beneath the calm exterior of this little potato, he was probably seething with rage.
Buster pulled the lady's hat brim back a little so that the two could face each other.
"sorry."
Holding Reinhardt's hand, Buster wanted him to touch his face, and he lowered his voice.
Madonna suggested that I leave you temporarily to give you some space to think. She said that I shouldn't bully you, or at least things shouldn't be as ambiguous as they are now.
"But I regretted it after just one day. I couldn't hug you openly, I couldn't kiss you, I couldn't smell your scent, and this tormented me."
Reinhardt curled his fingers back.
This was a sign of refusal to be touched. Buster's breathing tightened, and he leaned his head on Reinhardt's shoulder as if in surrender.
The Storm Leader revealed an unprecedented vulnerability, yet could not suppress the surging love and regret.
He lost his earlier urgency, and sounded like a defeated beast, his voice tinged with sadness.
"Don't you want to talk to me anymore?"
He pressed Reinhardt's clenched fist against his face and muttered, "I made a mistake, didn't I?"
Reinhardt's eyelids trembled slightly, and the bitterness he had been suppressing in his heart flowed like a spring bursting forth after an earthquake across the flat land.
Reinhardt's throat bobbed, and he slowly exhaled a breath of stale air from his nose.
Victoria's meticulously groomed curly blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, and Reinhardt kept his fists clenched.
“What did you do wrong?” Reinhardt replied slowly. “I don’t understand your enthusiasm, your indifference, and what you want from me.”
“I want your response,” Buster said, his throat dry. “I want your love.”
He spoke with great sincerity, even with a hint of supplication.
"In this way?" Reinhardt also lowered his head.
His breaths were mingling, but he no longer felt the warmth and peace he had before.
His eyelashes fluttered among the particles of light. Reinhardt tried to exhale the heavy breath in his chest, but it turned into a soft laugh.
“I think I’m feeling sad,” he said. “Buster, is this what you wanted?”
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