Valentine Teller looks at Mark Reed, then looks at herself.
Actually, without my glasses, I'm not that ugly!
It's just that my hairstyle is terrible, lifelessly covering my face, all messy.
My facial features haven't changed, and my skin shows no signs of aging.
My eyes are still the same size.
Pouting, still just as pink and cute, she doesn't think she's uglier, but rather prettier because her complexion is better than before.
I wonder if the climate in Seattle is very nourishing, my skin feels more tender and fair.
Pinch it, it's very soft and elastic.
Mark Reed looks coldly at Valentine Teller, she's making all sorts of weird faces, pouting and pinching her cheeks. She must have a screw loose in her brain, doing these strange things; it's embarrassing to walk with her.
"Crazy." Mark Reed's thin lips slightly opened, spitting out a cold mockery.
Valentine Teller's hand was pinching her cheek, and she froze there when he insulted her.
Did he just call her crazy?
