Jasmine Yale sighed, in some ways, he was still the same as before.
Sylvan Cheney brought her some snacks.
Jasmine Yale happily opened a pack of cucumber-flavored chips, ate one, and smiled at him.
When she smiled, Sylvan Cheney also smiled.
This side of Jasmine Yale was like an immature little girl, completely different from the sharp-tongued, unyielding Jasmine Yale of before.
While Sylvan Cheney was cooking in the kitchen, Jasmine Yale sat on the sofa playing on the computer.
When she won, she would giggle, and when she lost, she wasn't so happy.
The apartment was large, and the sunlight was ample.
Occasionally, she would turn around and see Sylvan Cheney bustling in the kitchen.
The tall, straight figure of the man radiated a homely atmosphere, he truly was different from before, very different.
The former Sylvan Cheney was like a deity on high, cold, aloof, indifferent, and silent, someone she wanted to approach but didn't dare to.
