Chapter 653: Insignificant Dust

Cecilia Vaughn raised her eyes, her eyelashes reflecting the handsome mixed-race face of school heartthrob Sean Grant, with sharply defined features and skin as white as snow, like a mesmerizing enchantment in the darkness.

Cecilia had seen a few mixed-race children before, but none could compare to Sean Grant’s beauty, as if meticulously sculpted by God, so flawless even upon closer inspection.

“Classmate Grant, what’s up?”

At Stellerton University, Cecilia Vaughn didn’t have many familiar classmates. Her deskmate Bella Prescott was the only close friend, and Sean Grant was one of the few she occasionally talked to.

However, knowing that Adrian Law disliked her getting too close to this boy, Cecilia always maintained her boundaries, never initiating communication with him unless necessary.

Even when she did have to speak, it was always polite with a touch of aloofness.

…

Any perceptive boy would likely sense her detachment from Cecilia Vaughn’s cold demeanor. But Sean Grant, perhaps due to growing up abroad and lacking understanding of social nuances, seemed to miss the politeness laced with distance in Cecilia’s attitude.

“Classmate Vaughn, with the New Year approaching and today being the last day of the semester, I don’t have many friends in Veridia. Consider me one. I brought some gifts, would you like to try?”

Sean Grant spoke with a slight smile, pulling out a box of pastel-colored macaron sweets from somewhere.

They looked exquisitely tempting, making one wish to pinch them.

…

Cecilia Vaughn involuntarily swallowed, honestly unable to resist the allure of sweets. However, recalling her agreement with Adrian Law, she resolutely declined.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been on a diet lately. Classmate Grant, you should keep it for yourself.”

“But you’re already quite slender.”

Sean Grant gazed at Cecilia, seemingly bewildered. His normally somber eyes now showed a touch of youthful innocence.

Suddenly, Cecilia felt that this youth wouldn’t just fit the role of the legendary vampire aristocrat; a change in appearance with a pair of pointed ears might see him as a transcendent Elven Prince.

Such porcelain-white skin is truly enviable.

…

Thousands of thoughts flashed through Cecilia’s mind; she whimsically waved her hand.

“I need to head to the post office by the school gate to send my grades to Belle, so no time to chat. I’m off.”

“Wait up!”

Cecilia was startled, not expecting Sean Grant to stop her.

“Is there anything else?”

Sean Grant gazed at her as if wounded, his glassy eyes almost transparent under the sunlight, as captivating as crystal beads.

“Classmate Vaughn, why do I feel like you’re deliberately avoiding me?”

“…”

Cecilia hadn’t realized her attitude was painfully obvious, yet it seemed Sean Grant was oblivious to it.

Was this a cultural difference between Veridia and abroad, or was this intelligent-looking boy straightforwardly ignorant?

Oh, indeed, Cecilia then remembered Sean Grant was actually as young as her brother Evan Vaughn, only eighteen years old, several years younger than her.

“It’s not exactly deliberate; I just think we don’t have much to discuss ordinarily.”

Cecilia smiled modestly and coolly.

After pondering, with no classmates around, she straightforwardly revealed her thoughts to Sean in English.

“Classmate Grant, I genuinely admire your talents, but it once caused trouble for my fiancé. I didn’t know growing up in Vessaria you might be inherently romantic and charming, but in our culture in Veridia, those with commitments should maintain proper boundaries with the opposite sex.”

Otherwise, if Sean Grant misunderstood, it would be her fault.

…

Surely, Cecilia felt she wasn’t alluring enough to make someone several years her junior fall head over heels.

Sean Grant likely appreciated her talents equally.

Both skilled in painting, sometimes even their professor liked pairing Cecilia and Sean for projects, to boost Stellerton University’s art program prestige.

…

Whenever possible, Cecilia chose polite refusals; when unavoidable, she kept her distance from Sean Grant.

Yet despite this, the lad seemed completely unaware.

It was truly vexing.

Cecilia spoke quite plainly, no matter how Sean Grant internally felt, whether he truly liked her a bit or simply admired her talent. It didn’t resolve Cecilia’s current dilemma.

The young man hesitated, retracting the box of sweets, with an apologetic shadow passing over his somber yet handsome brows.

Perhaps due to Cecilia using English earlier, he responded in English as well.

“Sorry, Classmate Vaughn, I genuinely merely admire your artistry, hence my desire to befriend you.”

“I didn’t expect to cause issues between you and your fiancé, but in Vessarian culture, no, really in any place, nobody can limit others’ social freedoms. In your Veridian culture, there’s a saying, ‘With a clear conscience, shadows are nothing to worry about.’ I consider myself upright, hoping you won’t constantly give in to your fiancé.”

“Your stance might actually fuel your partner’s possessive tendencies—never good.”

…

The seemingly purehearted advice left Cecilia even more troubled.

What could she say?

Clearly, Sean Grant insisted on ignoring her plea.

Considering Sean’s impressive artistry, Cecilia sincerely doubted he was malicious; she could only offer a polite smile.

“Thank you for the advice, but my fiancé is kind and tolerant towards me. As Classmate Grant, you’re momentarily single, you might not comprehend couple possessiveness. Let’s not delve deeper.”

“I have things to attend to, apologies, goodbye.”

…

Saying so, Cecilia briskly turned, leaving a clean and decisive silhouette.

Sean Grant fixated on her graceful form, watching the winter breeze lift Cecilia’s long hair as if part of a dreamy illusion, beautiful yet untouchable.

A trace of a meaningful smile flitted across Sean’s lips, and the prior warmth in his eyes cooled instantly.

The dignified young man straightforwardly extended his hand, placing the once-cherished box of sweets into the trash.

What remains unappreciated.

For keeping it, what’s the point?

Mere specks in the stream of history, insignificant.

It made him sick.