I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 93

As I sniffed, momentarily lost in the old memories, Sara tapped her head against my chin.

"I don’t remember!"

I smiled faintly at the pair of curious eyes looking up at me.

"Of course you don’t. You’re a different kid."

"But the name’s the same!"

"It’s not, you brat."

From what I remembered, Sara wasn’t particularly active or lively.

A normal, ordinary child you could find anywhere.

Ignoring what others think was a default trait I added.

I thought that defined her.

Even the Sara sitting on my lap now spoke without any regard for my feelings.

That alone gave her a slightly mischievous, troublesome aura.

Like a stubborn little kid who just wouldn’t listen.

"I like yellow too!"

"I know."

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