Sweet words—they were superficial, trivial. A tactic beneath a grand villain like Veil.
But right now, Saoirse—who acted tough—had a soft spot that craved them.
What choice did he have? If he didn't go down this route, he'd be missing the point entirely.
Veil might not cling to sweet talk—but he could still wield it perfectly. And in a world where the entertainment industry was decaying, where would he learn the sincerity to give?
He began slowly, voice low and deliberate:
"From over familiarity grows affection; from affection, love deepens. Though I may not be the brightest light in your life, you are the hardest one to forget."
He pressed his hand to Saoirse's heart as if transferring every word straight into her soul.
Saoirse recoiled inwardly at the gooey intensity, flustered by their intimacy and unnerved by how readily he could articulate this.
"Mm… what else?" she asked, coolly prodding with her forehead against his chin, arms relaxed—though touched she didn't let on.
