Warning: My Mommy Is A Savage By Seeking A Peaceful Chapter 1237-Since everyone had fallen asleep, Charmine walked out of the room and went to the men’s room.
She knocked and called out, “Anthony.”
Silence.
“Anthony?” Charmine called out again.
Nobody responded.
She pursed her lips and pushed open the door, only to find an empty room without its residents.
Charmine frowned. Where had they gone to?
She turned and went to the front yard.
However, when she arrived at the living room, she saw Frank rolling up his sleeves in the pavilion and was preparing to write.
He seemed so unreal and gentle.
Charmine walked toward him slowly. “Frank.”
When Frank heard the sound, he knew exactly which direction she was coming from. He turned over and smiled at her. ’You had a long day. Why are you not resting?” “I came out to look for Anthony, and I can’t find him.” “Faye took them out to get some wood,” replied Frank, “in case everyone feels cold at night.”
“Oh.” No wonder they all disappeared!
Frank knew that the ink was ready, so he put it down.
Charmine saw the ink on the table—it was well prepared.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Frank. “Frank, what are you drawing?”
“Care to guess?” “Hmm…” Charmine looked at the white paper and frowned. “I don’t know.” “Watch.” “Okay.”
Charmine stood by the side and watched him quietly.
Frank picked up the brush and dipped the tip in the ink.
Following that, his brush gently landed on the paper. Below the brush, images started to form: river, mountain, mist, the sky, and the sunrise.
Following that, he dipped the ink again and precisely went to the center of the paper. He drew in a downward stroke, and a bamboo tree was revealed.
Charmine widened her eyes in disbelief at the shocking sight.
Frank actually painted the bamboo forest!
He had never seen the bamboo forest. How would he know how to draw every detail to the tee?
The painting looked the same as the forest itself! 2 “Frank.” Charmine reacted after a while. “How do you know?”
Frank said, “I feel it. How is it? Is it far different from the actual bamboo forest?”
“Not at all,” said Charmine, “it looks exactly the same. Frank, you’re too good!”
Frank smiled weakly; he seemed so gentle and humble. “It’s not.”
Saying that, he seemed as if he could see things. He picked up the painting and handed it to her. “We haven’t met for so many years. This is for you.”
Startled at his sudden gift, Charmine eventually accepted it. “Thank you, Frank.
I’ll keep it safe.”
She would bring this to an exhibition for more people to see his work!
Frank smiled. ‘You’re too polite.”
Charmine smiled as she kept the painting. She walked over to help him prepare the ink.
Frank dipped his brush in the ink and wrote on the sacredly white paper: [I love because I don’t know how to not love.] Charmine looked at this sentence and frowned.
Although it was a poem, she somehow felt that there was a strong sense of nostalgic feeling in that sentence.
She looked up at the ever-so-calm Frank. “Frank,” she began, “do you fancy a woman?”
Frank’s brush moved, but his face was cold like a cold lake. “No. I don’t know what to say, so I picked this poem.” “Oh.” Charmine then looked at this sentence and felt that it was very emotional and touchy. 1 It was as if it was reflecting his current state; he was feeling a strong sense of nostalgia.
Charmine thought for a moment and stared at the words for a long while before saying, “Frank, you truly have fallen for someone. Won’t you share? You can tell me, I can help you.”