Maria tried to blink away the overflowing tears but to no avail. In an angrily clumsy manner, she wiped them away with the back of her hand, and that's when she bumped into something hard.
'Where did this wall come from?' Her thoughts were a sarcastic mess at the moment.
She looked up to meet his questioning gaze – Blake!
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux ?" She asked him childishly. (*What do you want?)
"Parler, rien de plus," was his sweet-coated response, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. (*I want to talk, nothing else.)
"On n'a rien à se dire," she retorted, her eyes filling up with tears at the still vivid memory of their embrace. (*We have nothing to say to each other)
She could barely form a coherent thought, feeling about to suffocate because it was as if her heart was being wr
