We're Mean to Be!
A faint smile played on the corners of Cynthia's lips. Clear apricot eyes shimmered with a hint of radiance. "I can't be considered a good person either, and I don't like so-called good people."
The fierceness in Tristan's eyes gradually dissipated, replaced by curiosity. "So what?" He wore a smile on his lips, looking at her with indulgence.
Cynthia laid down her knife and fork, picked up a tissue, wiped the corners of her mouth, and neatly placed the tissue at the edge of the table. Every move she made showcased the inherent elegance.
She looked at Tristan, her eyes shining with determination. "We're a perfect match!"
Perhaps, before Tristan said, "Let's get married," or even earlier, she had a chance to back out. She had envisioned feeling hesitant upon discovering Tristan's unknown side. Yet, in this moment, facing the man in front of her, reason told her to stop, but her selfishness told her she could ignore everything for this man who favored her.