"Brother," Michelle Harrington came up close, rocking Charles Harrington's arm, "who are all these people? Why does he... have the same blue eyes as you?"
Charles Harrington looked at her deeply. Having grown up together, he could see right through Michelle's little schemes.
A cold smile lifted the corner of his mouth, "Like him?"
Michelle's cheeks flushed red, flustered and ashamed, "No, no, not at all!"
"I've made it clear I won't marry you. I've always seen you as a sister. Growing up together, it's like my left hand touching my right hand, you could be naked in front of me and I wouldn't react," Charles said bluntly, regardless of the many people present, "If you like someone, go after them."
Michelle knew Charles all too well; her fondness for him was simply because he was handsome and outstanding, nobody could better him...
It was like coveting the prettiest doll, that possessive desire to not let any other woman have him.