During a meal, Jasmine Yale ate slowly, fearing that once she finished, he would leave.
She also served him a bowl of soup, squinting her eyes at him: "Drink more of this, it's good for your health."
"Good for my health?" Sylvan Cheney looked at her with a meaningful gaze, "If you keep nourishing me like this, can you handle it?"
"Try me."
Jasmine Yale suddenly leaned closer, smiling slyly, stealthily wrapping her small hand around his waist.
Sylvan Cheney didn't speak, just glanced at her again.
After the meal, Jasmine Yale paced around the living room, washing fruits for Sylvan Cheney, and squeezing juice for him.
Sylvan didn't leave immediately, sitting on the sofa, casually flipping through a magazine.
Riceball didn't know when it had run in, circling Sylvan for a while, then running to Jasmine's side.
After the meal, craving a smoke, Sylvan reached into his pocket and felt a pack of cigarettes.
Just as Jasmine came over, she pounced, holding down his hand.
