Quinn found herself perched on the edge of the couch, her gaze habitually locked onto the wall clock, watching as the second hand made its relentless journey.


    The tick-tock of the clock was aforting rhythm, a constant in her life of uncertainties. Each time she found herself waiting for Alexander''s return, her eyes would be drawn to that clock, her heart fluttering with the hope that he might walk through the door with the next tick. Yet, more often than not, the person she yearned for never arrived.


    As the clock struck midnight, a sudden realization dawned on Quinn. She remembered her notebook, a vessel for her thoughts and memories. Reaching for it, she began to record the events of the past, each memory etched into her mind with crystal rity.


    The thought of forgetting such profound memories was a heartbreaking one. Her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, of things she yearned to do.


    She wondered if she would remember them all if she ever lost her memory. As she settled into the rhythm of writing, her focus was shattered by the sound of footsteps.


    Her head jerked up, her eyes meeting a familiar face. Instinctively, she hid the notebook behind her. Yet, hidden things have a way of revealing themselves, especially to someone as perceptive as Alexander. He extended his hand, his voice firm, "Hand it over."


    Quinn''s grip on the notebook tightened, her knuckles turning white.Alexander stood before her, d in a ck trench coat, a matching suit underneath, and a silver-grey shirt. His dark attire contrasted starkly against the light, making him an imposing figure.


    He towered over her, his gaze piercing as he asked again, "Is there a secret that can''t be discovered? Something I''m not allowed to see?"Quinn shook her head, her eyes wide with fear.His eyes darkened momentarily as he extended his long fingers towards her, "Let''s have it."Her grip on the notebook was shaky, her palms sweaty.


    The content of the notebook was personal, parts of it not meant for anyone else, especially not him.But before she could conjure an excuse, Alexander leaned in, one hand pressing on her shoulder, the other swiftly snatching the notebook from behind her.


    Quinn''s heart pounded in her chest as she rose to snatch it back. The height difference was significant. He raised an arm to block her, the other hand already flipping the notebook open. Quinn''s pupils dted, her breath hitching in her throat.As he opened it, she stopped struggling, the realization sinking in that he had seen everything. His expression shifted subtly, and he nced at Quinn with a tilt of his head.Quinn hung her head in shame.


    "I wanna go fly a kite," he read from the notebook in a calm, maic voice, devoid of any emotion. Yet, his words made Quinn feel utterly out of ce."I wanna see fields of flowers."I want an obedient Golden Retriever."I''d also love to take a ride in a hot air balloon."


    Quinn couldn''t bear to listen any longer. To her, these were the things she yearned for, but to him, they seemed like trivialities. But read out by him without a hint of feeling, they felt almost like an insult or mockery.


    She felt small, her desires seeming insignificant, her boldness to pen them down now seeming foolish.The sensation was akin to streaking in public.


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    It reminded Quinn of the time Freya had read her diary aloud for all to hear, how they had mocked her for writing even about a hairpin.Property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    Theyughed, calling her naive, but only Quinn knew that it wasn''t for the hairpin''s beauty that it earned a ce in her diary, but because... It was a gift from Alexander.


    Quinn shook his arm, begging him to stop.Alexander paused and nced at her, closing the notebook and cing it before Quinn. "Howe I didn''t know you had all these things you wanted to do?" he asked. "Who do you want to do them with?"


    Faced with his probing, Quinn stepped back, but he closed in another step.She fell back onto the couch."With Abigail?"Or with Walter?"