Jasmine Yale didn't know how she had angered him again.
This time, unlike just before, there was roughness in his movements.
He pinned her down on the seat and tormented her once more, leaving her too worn out to speak.
Jasmine Yale sobbed quietly.
Eventually, she turned into someone who cried while begging him to "stop."
"Sylvan Cheney, I don't like mentioning other people at times like this," he warned her, commanding.
Jasmine Yale had no energy left to speak; she could only nod frantically.
Seeing her compliance, he stopped tormenting her.
"Jasmine Yale, if you make a mistake again, I will make you beg me like this."
"You bastard! You're inhuman!"
"Hm? Don't like it?"
"Sylvan Cheney, marry me." Jasmine Yale's faint voice came through, suddenly uttering such a sentence, devoid of jest or humor.
She was serious.
Sylvan Cheney probably didn't expect her to say this; even in the darkness, his tall figure paused.
Silence, another endless stretch of silence.
