When the Wind is Sweet: The Fairy Tale of Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster-Chapter 559: Fletcher, Lost in Thought?
Kylie Fletcher felt a sense of admiration for his profound knowledge, simply gazing at his handsome profile, lost in thought.
Byron Moss spoke eloquently, smooth as jade, "Moreover, the excavation this time not only unearthed brushes but also inkstones for holding pigments, as well as the pestles used to grind mineral pigments into powder."
She listened intently, but watched him even more intently!
Byron helped her prepare the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.
As he turned his gaze to her, he concluded, "So, Fletcher, the history of Miles Montgomery inventing the brush needs to be rewritten, extending back over 2,700 years."
Kylie nodded obediently, "Got it, Mr. Moss."
Then, he beckoned her, "Come over here."
Coming back to her senses, she inwardly confessed that being alone with her admired man, whom she loved dearly, made her inexplicably nervous.
Taking steps toward him, she managed every expression of hers carefully.
Byron stepped back, and Kylie, feeling anxious, stepped up to him, the brush was already prepared, and the paper was laid out.
With a bit of awkwardness, she glanced at him, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"Turn around," he said gently, yet with a bit of a teacher’s authority.
The girl snapped back to reality and followed his instruction.
He then asked her, "Do you know how to hold a brush? Show me."
The sudden seriousness felt like... having a strict class teacher standing behind a primary school student. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
Kylie swallowed a bit nervously and picked up the brush.
"That’s not the right posture," he said, and directly reached over, holding her hand from behind.
Kylie’s body went rigid, her eyes widened with disbelief at her hand being held by him.
She could feel her back vaguely leaning against his chest.
She could even feel his warm breath swirling around her ear.
And the familiar, intoxicating scent of his subtle cologne!
"Fletcher, are you daydreaming?"
"No, no, no!"
Then, as he corrected her brush-holding posture, he explained—
"When holding a brush, the inner side of the thumb should press the brush handle against one’s body, with the thumb in a slightly horizontal position, while the first and second joints of the index finger press the brush handle inward..."
Kylie still couldn’t believe he actually held her hand! And was standing so closely behind her!
She was truly feeling his presence so vividly and near.
His voice familiar and warm, making her heart race faster and faster...
Thus holding her hand, he explained as he taught her how to make strokes, how to keep horizontal and vertical lines.
Yet she completely spaced out.
Downstairs, Byron’s father Frederick Moss entered the training center, knowing his son might be upstairs if not downstairs.
So, without making a call, he directly headed upstairs.
Upstairs, as he passed the adult classroom, he just happened to see the scene inside—
A girl was writing with a brush.
Byron stood behind her, their fronts close and he was holding her hand.
They looked very intimate.
The snowflakes danced outside the window, and from this angle, the scene was surprisingly picturesque!
Frederick Moss didn’t interrupt, calmly observing the situation.
Soon, the words "cautious and serious" were completed, Byron let go of the hand, and Kylie also put the brush down.
Oh dear, her palms were almost sweating!
The two young people inadvertently glanced over and simultaneously noticed the middle-aged man at the door.
"Dad?" Byron was a bit surprised, quickly stepping towards him, "When did you arrive?"
Frederick then stepped inside, "Just got here."
His gentle, kind gaze remained on Kylie, he had seen this girl before when she went up the mountain with Faye Turner.
It seemed the young girl truly had an interest in his son, even coming all the way to the town for him.
"Hello, Uncle." Kylie was very polite, she quickly bowed in greeting.
"Hello, hello." Frederick was quite informal, he looked at her and then at his son, "How about having lunch together?"
