NovelEnglish“The notion of adorning a silk scarf with a brooch is remarkably ingenious. Such a thought hadn’t previously crossed my mind.”
“I propose that Miss Brown’s talents encompass not only design but also matchmaking.”
As Millie concluded her discourse, she delicately detached the brooch from the silk scarf and returned it to its receptacle. Just as she prepared to exit the stage, a gust of wind caught the silk scarf adorning her wrist, spiriting it away.
The silk scarf danced upon the breeze, descending to rest upon Marcus’ lap.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAn instant transformation rippled through the crowd, with murmurs rippling through the air.
Taken aback, Millie directed her gaze to her now-vacant wrist.
A chuckle escaped the president, his words infused with amusement.
“Ah, it appears that fate has intervened. The scarf seems to have found its favored recipient.”
With care, Marcus lifted the delicate silk scarf, gently passing his fingers over its fabric. A fragrance of orchids lingered.
With his eyes raised, a meaningful smile graced Marcus’ features as he addressed Millie.
“Miss Brown, your discourse on the synergy between brooches and silk scarves was intriguing. Might I propose that you step down, and together we bring your vision to life?”
Engaging in spirited repartee, the students indulged in light banter with Millie.
“Pray, bestow upon us a live demonstration.”
“Indeed, Miss Brown, let not reticence hold you.”
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThis unceasing exchange of banter bestowed a rosy hue on Millie’s cheeks.
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Gracefully stepping from the stage, she advanced towards Marcus, an unshakable conviction whispering that there was more to him than met the eye.
With a fluid motion, Millie drew near, and in Marcus’ outstretched hand lay the silk scarf.
Millie’s gaze met his, the silk scarf exchanging hands and finding its haven as a gentle bind on his arm, an elegant contrast to his ebony attire.
The silk fabric wound twice around his arm, a dance of finesse. A bow knot emerged, followed by the dainty brooch, placed with utmost care.
Silence settled, yet Millie’s fingers betrayed a quiver, a subtle tremor in her touch.
“Miss Brown, a hint of nerves, perchance?” Marcus’ voice, a velvet lilt, carried across the space.
Since all eyes were upon her, could trepidation not seize hold in such a moment?
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