The Female Leads Truly Loves You - Chapter 289

Chapter 289: Don’t cry, I’m here
Sophie couldn’t sleep. Not at all.

She didn’t understand why she felt so restless tonight.

Fairly speaking, her life was full of stories, making her seem like the perfect protagonist for a novel. But usually, her sleep was quite sound.

On her days off, she would read books, browse her phone, and sleep, rather than going out shopping, playing, or engaging in what seemed like meaningful but ultimately pointless socializing.

She had never experienced the kind of sleepless anxiety she felt tonight.

It was as if a strange fire was burning inside her chest, a worldly wildfire that couldn’t be extinguished no matter how much she tossed and turned.

“Hmm? In the middle of the night… is it really so easy to think of such melodramatic words?” Sophie muttered to herself, annoyed as she ran her fingers through her long hair. It fell around her, making her look almost like a ghostly figure.

She thought about turning on her phone, following her usual routine of scrolling until sleep claimed her.

But when she turned it on, she didn’t know what to look at. The information flashing past her eyes couldn’t penetrate her brain. This device, which occupied most of modern people’s time and seemed to possess magical powers, now felt utterly mundane.

What was going on? Sophie sat up, irritated. She glanced at the door and then heard a faint noise coming from outside.

“Wait, is he snoring?” The sound seemed to grow louder and more distinct. How could anyone sleep through this? She had given him a place to sleep, and there he was, snoring outside. Really, this was… this was…

Hmm? Did this give her a legitimate reason to go out and wake him up, maybe even have a chat?

But why did she want to talk to him? What a strange thought.

But… how could she sleep with his snoring?

With a sudden burst of energy, Sophie quietly slipped out of bed, dressed in her familiar cartoon pajamas.

She tiptoed across the room in her fluffy slippers—attire that Sam had never seen, as Sophie only wore such things in the privacy of her own small bedroom.

She felt these cute pajamas didn’t quite match her usual demeanor, especially now that Sam often visited her home, which girl could resist adorable panda pajamas?

She gently pushed open the door. As expected, the living room was dim, unlit.

Sophie distinctly remembered that the only blanket on the sofa was a thin one she used to wrap herself with while watching TV when it was cold—calling it a comforter would be a bit of an exaggeration.

Could he really sleep like that? And snore?

The closer Sophie got, the more absurd it seemed. Was Sam just carefree, or was he really not cold?

As she approached the sofa, the dim light faintly outlined Sam’s figure. He was leaning against the back of the sofa, using his own pillow as a headrest, and had draped his jacket over the thin blanket.

He was slightly curled up, his breathing somewhat labored, which occasionally resulted in snoring. It might have been due to breathing difficulties, or perhaps he was just exhausted from the day.

Thalia had mentioned that teenage boys often have strange habits like drooling in class or snoring in their sleep. So, it was normal, right?

But why, as she drew closer, did it not seem noisy anymore? Watching him curled up like that, he must be a bit cold, looking somewhat pitiful.

Sophie’s original plan was to wake him up loudly, using this natural and reasonable excuse to have him keep her company during her bout of insomnia.

But now… why did she feel a twinge of pity? What had he done today to be so tired…

Sophie stood beside the couch, observing Sam’s posture.

The sofa wasn’t particularly wide, but it wasn’t cramped either. Just right, there was a gap between his thigh and stomach that seemed just big enough for her to fit into.

But why sit down? Why did such a thought even cross her mind? Hadn’t she always avoided any physical contact with him?

Yet, the image of herself pouncing on him before sleep surfaced in her mind. She could almost recall the firmness of his chest, the warmth of his embrace—a haven that seemed to shelter all unease and comfort all misfortune.

Anyway, he was already snoring, unlikely to wake up easily, right? Probably… he wouldn’t notice.

Just to sit for a moment… just a moment, to re-experience the warmth she hadn’t fully felt before due to her panic and blank mind. That’s normal, right?

After all, she had never truly experienced such feelings before, and it’s not like she liked him…It was just laying the groundwork for emotions that seemed unattainable in the future.

Maybe she would never fall in love with anyone, never end up with any man. After all, she couldn’t truly accept anyone, and who could tolerate her indirect nature?

So, just for a moment…

With this thought in mind, Sophie began to move step by step toward that direction. The distance seemed short, fleeting.

But why did every inch she moved closer bring forth more memories of her times with Sam, even echoing their conversations as if a movie were playing in her mind?

The sound in her ears wasn’t the howling north wind outside the window. Instead, it was as if it carried the entire summer’s ocean waves—rushing and crashing.

In these wave sounds, she sank deeper.

Finally, Sophie sat down on the sofa, feeling his body warmth envelop her. In that instant, the girl who despised physical contact with anyone tensed up.

She thought she would regret it, resist this impulsive decision. But after a brief stiffness, she felt no disgust, no discomfort. On the contrary, an irresistible warmth and a strange allure washed over her, almost as if Sam was embracing her from behind.

But he hadn’t moved. His breathing remained even. It was all just an illusion of Sophie’s, a fleeting misperception. It was an excess of self-consciousness, a hypocrisy she dared only in such moments.

And in feeling that warmth, Sophie deeply realized her own flaws. Indeed, as Sam had once said, it wasn’t him who made her a bad girl; she was… inherently flawed.

Sophie no longer stiffened her body but instead, embraced the warmth, gently turning to look down at Sam’s peaceful sleeping face.

He wasn’t snoring now. His sleep was infant-like, eyes closed, with long eyelashes that fluttered slightly.

How could a boy have such long, curled lashes? They looked so good on his face.

Now she could honestly say, “I’ll never meet someone like you again.”

She faced this truth head-on. Sophie thought of their future—a future that seemed visible at a glance, a future where, after the brief remainder of their high school days, there would be no more intersections in their paths.

One day, he would leave that small apartment, move away with someone unknown. Perhaps she would be the one to leave first.

Regardless, they would part ways. And once gone, there would likely be no chance of meeting again.

And Sophie knew clearly that there would never be another boy like him. No one else could match his uniqueness.

So handsome.

So quirky.

And so mysteriously capable of breaking into her own world—this Sam.

“Never again…” she whispered to herself, and as she did, her eyes couldn’t help but redden. Her nose felt stuffy.

What was even harder to bear was the emotion seeping into her heart bit by bit. Sophie had thought her defenses were impenetrable, a castle no weapon could breach, a tightly secured military fortress.

But why…

Why did cracks begin to appear the moment Sam entered her world? It started with just small cracks. Yet, something was surging inside her heart, unstoppable.

That feeling seemed about to drown all her resolve.

Unable to resist, Sophie reached out her hand but only dared to gently touch Sam’s cheek with her fingertips, as if afraid of damaging a delicate dandelion.

The arc of light in her eyes stirred, the shimmering glow rippling. It was fleeting, like silver flakes in a clear stream.

Her gentle touch continued to his shoulder, down to his strong, firm arm.

She felt like crying.

She really wanted to cry.

She wanted to question so many things—question the world, question the so-called fate, those invisible yet omnipresent threads.

Why… can’t things be simpler?

Why must so many things be so complicated?

Why must there be so many stories, so many characters weaving through the space between her and him, so many bizarre struggles that she herself could neither escape from nor sever completely…

“Why…”

“Why oh why…”

Sophie hadn’t realized many things.

She hadn’t realized that the castle in her heart had already crumbled.

It hadn’t blossomed, but it was trembling, on the verge of collapse.

Why had she never gained anything?

Always losing.

She lost her parents, lost her family, even her sister was just a soul in her heart that she couldn’t truly see.

She lost the normal adolescence of a young girl.

Lost the possibility of making friends normally, living a normal life during those years.

Lost so much happiness, lost… perhaps the chance to be happy.

She knew she was crying now.

But she couldn’t help it, really couldn’t.

Like a flood at the moment of a dam’s breach, no one tries to repair their defenses; they can only wait for the tide to recede.

Until that time comes, one can only let it flow freely, let it release completely.

Sophie just hadn’t realized that she was almost entirely lying on top of Sam.

She was trying hard to control the trembling of her body; she didn’t want him to wake up.

Not at all.

She just wanted to enjoy this moment as much as possible, to recognize her own fragility, to realize that she too was afraid of losing, to acknowledge her own regrettable weakness.

Why must people be so hypocritical…

Why can’t she… ever be favored by fate?

Why does it always allow her to see beauty, only to watch as that beauty slowly drifts away from her?

Why must it be this way!

“Why…”

“Why oh why…”

Sophie’s voice was as soft as possible, her tone seemingly taking the place of the trembling in her body.

She knew she couldn’t coax any answers from herself, nor did she know the answers.

After all, she was just like this… a person powerless to salvage anything, even when she realized things might be heading in a bad direction.

But she would only disguise herself with insincerity.

Because…

Unable to keep someone from leaving, unable to truly face loss… she could only resort to resistance and defiance, even pretending to push the other person away to mask her own reluctance.

“Why…”

“Why…”

“Don’t cry.”

Warm arms.

Like embracing a bundle of soft sunlight, dense with branches and leaves.

It was gentle.

It was fervent.

It was safe.

It was Sam’s.

Sam held Sophie, embracing her fragile, slender, slightly trembling body.

He said,

“Don’t cry, I’m here.”