The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1906 Creating Distance
Anne gazed at Anson quietly, just like that, for a long time, her beautiful pupils reflecting Anson's face, shimmering with light.

Anson looked over as well, a slight unease creeping into his heart. "Annie, so, how about the movie? Which one are we going to show tonight at midnight? A slapstick film? Or a classic masterpiece?"

One sentence after another.

But Anne didn't answer; she just stared intently at Anson.

Anson's words lingered on his tongue, his lips twitching slightly, but he quickly composed himself. He would rather Annie vent all her emotions than face this unfamiliar face before him. "Are you angry?"

Anne remained silent, her expression calm, but a hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. Anson had a bad feeling.

“You know I like you, right?” Anne said.

Anson opened his mouth slightly, but no sound came out.

Anne, "I've always liked you, so I'm willing to wait for you forever."

"At Griffith Observatory, in my apartment closet, in the movie theater, I'm always waiting for you, waiting for you to appear, waiting for you to burst into my life like a tornado."

"But I can't keep waiting."

Anne stared intently at Anson, her glassy eyes shimmering with tears, slowly revealing the pain of heartbreak.

“You know what, when you weren’t here just now, I was having all sorts of wild thoughts. I was thinking, is it because of Scarlett again? It’s because of Scarlett again.”

"I know I shouldn't overthink things, but this isn't the first or second time."

Finally, Anson found his voice, "Nothing's wrong, Scarlett and I..."

Anne nodded. "I understand. I believe you."

“You don’t lie, you’re always so candid and honest, but that’s precisely why I hate myself.”

"I'm thinking about why you invited Scarlett to act in the movie but not me; I'm thinking about why you were willing to spend hours comforting Scarlett."

“I don’t want this. I hate these speculations and these imaginings. I hate myself for letting jealousy and hatred distort all the facts.”

"The truth is, I know there's nothing between you and Scarlett, but I still can't control my imagination. I sit in the dark and let those thoughts run wild. I feel so small, so despicable, and so ugly. I'm turning into a devil that I despise."

"Anson, I don't want this... I don't want this..."

Despair, struggle, and pain shattered in the tears, and one could almost hear the sound of a heart breaking.

Anson's breathing was abruptly cut off.

His quick wit and resourcefulness were all put on hold at this moment. His mind went blank, but as he recalled the brief touch in the bathroom that night, he fell into an abyss.

He couldn't look Anne in the eye.

Involuntarily, Anson took half a step forward, trying to hug Annie.

But Annie took a small step back, looked sadly at Anson, and gently shook her head. "Anson, let me finish, okay?"

"When I feel disrespected, especially by people I care about, I start to overthink. I try to accommodate and please them, I try to hide myself and cooperate with them, and I do everything I can to shrink myself until I lose myself."

"But I don't want to be like this. I don't like this small and distorted version of myself."

"I know this is my problem..."

Anson finally lost control, "Annie..." It wasn't Anne's fault.

But Anne was adamant. She shook her head. “No, Anson, listen, I have my problems, believe me, and you have yours too. You think you’re hiding them well, but you’re afraid.” “You’re afraid to open your heart, you’re afraid to give your trust, you’re afraid of getting hurt if you open yourself up completely, and you’re afraid to let others fully into your life.”

"I have no right to blame you for this, because we all have our own problems, and no one is perfect."

With a sudden, devastating blow, it shattered Anson's armor.

He thought he had concealed it well, he thought he had performed perfectly, and he thought that all the pain from his past life had been left in the river of time.

However, it was all an illusion; he wasn't as good at hiding as he thought.

At this moment, standing before Annie, Anson was utterly defeated.

But could he blame Anne? Looking at Anne's bruised and battered state, Anson's words caught in his throat.

Anne noticed the vulnerability and struggle in Anson's eyes, and she felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn't hurt Anson; the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Anson.

But everything is out of control, isn't it?
Perhaps it's because, without them realizing it, they had already become too deeply entangled.

Anne closed her eyes, swallowed all her heartbreak, took a deep breath, and despite the difficulty and pain, she opened her eyes.

Those clear eyes, like glass soaked in water, were always shrouded in a misty haze, glistening with tears. She carefully and earnestly examined Anson, meticulously tracing the face that had made her fall in love with him—his eyebrows, eyes, nose, and lips—she had never scrutinized him so intently before.

Then, a smile rose and blossomed, but tears welled up again, as if gently tearing at her heart.

“Anson, I think our relationship is moving too fast.”

Anne said.

Anson couldn't believe his ears. He tried to open his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat. He just stared blankly at Annie, and finally, he heard his own slightly hoarse voice say, "Annie, will you be my girlfriend?"

Anne smiled.

A smile blossomed, from the corners of her mouth to the depths of her eyes, fully blooming, even the tears that welled up seemed bright and sparkling.

Annie tilted her head, quietly looking at Anson, but she was completely defeated and routed under the gaze of those deep blue eyes. She turned her head away in a sorry state, cutting off his gaze. "No, Anson, this is not the answer I'm waiting for. You can't try to solve all problems in such a shameless way."

But my gaze still couldn't help but continue to drift towards Anson—

They bumped right into each other and got caught red-handed.

Anne could almost see a hint of a smile in Anson's eyes, and Anne herself couldn't help but chuckle, laughing and crying at the same time, like a madwoman.

Anne tilted her head and caught the helplessness and bitterness in Anson's expression. She shook her head gently and sighed, "Anson Wood, I really like you."

Even though I like it, why does my heart feel so constricted and painful?

Anson's throat seemed to be blocked with cotton.

In his past and present lives, he thought he had become open and honest; he thought he had said goodbye to the past and embarked on a new life; he thought he could live a carefree life and laugh at life.

However, standing in front of Annie, he realized that he was still the same anxious Anson, afraid of being hurt, afraid of betrayal, afraid of being abandoned and given up. So he always pretended that he didn't care, he always deliberately kept his distance, and he always refused to give his true feelings.

He never truly changed.
Anson finally spoke, his voice trembling slightly, as he forced a smile, "I like you too, Anne Hathaway."

Anson quietly watched Annie, then took another small step forward. This time, Annie neither moved aside nor retreated, and the distance between them closed once again.

(End of this chapter)