Streaks Of Red

"Oliver, what is this?" 

Clara shrugged her hand as she stood in front of Oliver.

The surrounding was getting dim as the fairy lights were illuminating the trees like a dream.

Clara had to admit, no matter from where you see it, the architecture of Alexander's hotel was huge. It ranged from modern to ancient, depending on the heritage of the place.

And today the hotel was more on the side of the old architecture. The grand entrance, the lavish interior, and the larger-than-life gardens. Clara loved them all.

But all the pretty things in front of Clara's eye did not compare to the one standing before her.

Oliver's gaze was sharp like blades if ready to kill at any given time. His stiff neck was tilted towards her in a blaming manner.

The warmth on Clara's hand was still lingering, as the one in her heart was burning.