Chapter 94 Can We Get to Know Each Other?
"Hi, sorry to bother you."
Bianca and Terrence turned toward the voice. A girl in a pink dress stood a short distance away, clutching a cup of milk tea. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, her eyes fixed on Terrence with open admiration, as if Bianca were invisible.
"I... I think you look a lot like someone I know. Could we exchange numbers? Maybe get to know each other?"
Her voice was soft but carried clearly to them both.
Terrence's brow tightened, the air around him cooling. He was about to refuse when a hand curled firmly around his wrist.
Bianca stepped forward, close at his side, her smile polite but distant. She looked at the girl, her tone warm but edged with unmistakable finality. "Sorry. He already has a girlfriend."
She leaned in closer to him, tightening her grip on his arm, her claim written in her body language.
The girl only frowned slightly, still staring at Terrence, not budging an inch. Attractive enough, but lacking boundaries—or perhaps she simply did not care that Bianca was there.
Bianca's smile thinned. Her fingers tightened against his arm.
She was about to speak again when a low, icy voice came from above her.
"My girlfriend just told you. Didn't you hear?"
His tone carried no courtesy, cold enough to make it clear he was ready to walk past her with Bianca.
The girl's eyes reddened instantly. She bit her lip, shot Bianca a glare, and turned away quickly.
"Hmph. One outfit change and suddenly you're a magnet for admirers," Bianca muttered, crossing her arms as she let go of him.
She started to step back, but Terrence's arm slid around her waist, pulling her in.
His palm was hot, the heat bleeding through the thin fabric into her skin.
Bianca looked up, meeting the depth of his gaze.
"Jealous?" His voice was teasing, the amusement in his eyes impossible to hide.
Her cheeks heated, though her tone cut like glass. "I hate that cliché where the older guy chases the young girl."
Terrence's laugh was low and close, his breath warm against her ear. "Funny… I've already had my fun with that little game."
The sweet-scented breeze of the amusement park wrapped around them, heating the air.
They saved the Ferris wheel for last.
Inside the small cabin, the view outside began to rise, carrying their mood with it.
Neither spoke. They simply sat, watching the city lights.
Little movements betrayed them.
The sunset painted the sky in soft orange-pink. The Ferris wheel turned slowly, their cabin hanging like a tiny house in the clouds.
As they climbed higher, the crowd below shrank into dots of light, the city's outline blurring into dusk.
Waiting in line had felt slow. Sitting here, time seemed to fly.
The sound of their heartbeats was almost audible in the confined space.
At the top, the moment felt heavier, more deliberate.
They met each other's eyes. No words—but they understood.
Bianca's arms slid around his neck. She pressed a kiss to his lips—light, unhurried, just a brief touch that sent a ripple through them both.
Terrence's eyes lit like fireworks lighting up the night, carrying a softness that was almost dangerous.
When they came back to themselves, the cabin door was open. Terrence kept his arm around her waist as they stepped down.
The last rays of sun spilled over their joined hands, gilding their knuckles in warm gold. Even the breeze between their fingers felt warm.
Bianca tilted her head, studying his profile in the sunset.
His lashes were long, casting fine shadows on his cheeks. Feeling her gaze, he turned slightly, catching her eyes.
"What?"
His voice was low, amused. His grip on her hand tightened.
"Looking at you."
She traced her fingertip across his palm, her eyes curving.
Two simple words—and the light in his eyes flared, like fireworks lighting up the night.
He stopped walking, drew her into his arms, and whispered against her ear, "Only look at me."
She did not answer, but the way her arms tightened around him said everything.
The sharp ring of the school bell cut through the moment. Bianca's hand paused on the page she was turning. Chairs scraped against the floor, voices rose in idle chatter.
Students streamed out. Bianca glanced at the clock, then down at her phone. Her brow furrowed.
Was the teacher holding them late again?
Her finger tapped the desk in rhythm with the ticking seconds, then the rhythm broke.
She stood abruptly, the chair legs screeching against the floor.
Her phone rang. The familiar tone carried an edge of urgency.
Jasmine's name lit the screen.
Seeing it made Bianca tense. They usually texted—Jasmine never called without reason.
She answered, fumbling in her rush.
The ringing stopped. Silence filled the room, but her heartbeat only climbed.
She grabbed her phone and hurried out.
The door slammed against the wall with a dull thud.
The classroom was empty. Jasmine was not there.
"Uh... hi?"
A voice behind her, uncertain.
Bianca spun, eyes sharp. "Were you in here last period?"
The student, picking up a forgotten book, blinked at her tone. "Yeah... I was."
"Did you see Jasmine?" Bianca's hands clamped on his shoulders.
He frowned, a flash of irritation crossing his eyes before his expression smoothed. His voice was cool.
"Yeah. Why? What's your relationship with her?"