At noon, Jasmine Yale woke up.
She rubbed her eyes and, as she sat up, she happened to see Sylvan Cheney on the sofa.
He was working, his expression serious and meticulous.
Jasmine Yale still liked watching him work, just like before.
Sylvan Cheney put down his laptop, "Awake?"
"Mm, what time is it?"
"Eleven o'clock."
"I've been sleeping so long, why didn't you wake me up?"
"You were sleeping so soundly, I couldn't bear to." Sylvan Cheney helped her sit up, "Still sleepy?"
Jasmine Yale reached out, hooked his neck, and playfully said, "Do you think I'm a little pig?"
This was her favorite gesture from before, gently hooking his neck with her little hand, drawing him closer.
At that moment, Sylvan Cheney felt as if he was struck by electricity, a peculiar feeling surged through his body, causing a slight pain in his head.
Reflected in his dark pupils was her beautiful face and her lips, full of smiles.
