She had drunk quite a bit, and her steps were unsteady.
It was better to be drunk, for then she knew nothing.
Her steps were unsteady, but her mind was still clear, and she made her way toward him, leaning on the table for support.
Yet before she could reach him, he stretched out a long arm, scooped her into his embrace, and held her tightly.
"Hey! You’re going back on your word," Jasmine Yale struggled.
Unfortunately, compared to Sylvan Cheney, she was like a frail cat against a sickly tiger, and he easily enclosed her in his arms, immobilizing her.
She gave up struggling and looked up at him.
Under the light, Jasmine’s eyelashes were long, her lips were lustrous, and her cheeks even more delicate, fair and soft.
"Mr. Cheney, you’re not treating as your sister now?"
Sylvan pinched her cheek, clearly unwilling to answer her question.
His fingers were icy cold, pinching her burning cheeks made her feel like she was electrocuted.
He lowered his head very close to her, just a few centiters away.
His hot breath fell on her face, his deep eyes gazing at her, with only a tiny her reflected in his pupils.
Jasmine’s heartbeat sped up.
She couldn’t resist Sylvan’s seduction, her cheeks flushing like fire.
Her resolve was weaker than his, as he stared at her, her eyes unsure where to look, feeling sowhat panicked and flustered.
Her heartbeat still accelerating, feeling like it might leap out of her throat any mont, her breathing also hastened.
"Do you rember the first ti I held you?" Sylvan spoke slowly, his deep, seductive voice in her ear.
Jasmine’s ears buzzed slightly.
She shook her head blankly, "I can’t rember."
"You can’t even rember that."
"You rember?" Jasmine disbelieved.
"Wasn’t it the year you ca to the Cheney Residence, that one ti you climbed up and stood on the windowsill, looking at the oriole in the tree outside?"
Jasmine’s temple twitched.
She rembered.
That ti, the oriole outside sang so beautifully, she couldn’t resist climbing onto the windowsill to see where the bird was.
Looking left and right, finally finding it, she gazed up, utterly unaware of the danger of her actions.
The oriole looked so lovely!
Just then, a pair of warm hands reached from behind and lifted her down from the windowsill, "Do you realize how dangerous this is?"
Back then, she hung her head like a kindergarten baby, silent.
"Would you dare again?"
"I wouldn’t dare."
Jasmine’s mory twitched, and she smiled, "That ti, that was the first ti you scolded , and the first ti I saw you angry. I was so afraid, terrified you’d throw out, I didn’t dare say a word, how could I rember you holding ."
Thinking back, indeed, that was the first ti he had held her.
At that ti, she had not been at the Cheney Residence very long.
Their relationship was neither close nor distant; she always feared being thrown out.
She didn’t want to wander the streets again, didn’t want to eat wild fruits, didn’t want to be bullied.
But she also dared not consider the Cheney Residence as ho, for fear her dreams would shatter.
"Now do you admit my mory is better than yours? Huh?" Sylvan raised his hand and patted her bottom.
"Stop being handsy, even if your mory is better, you’re older, you’ll definitely get old and forgetful before I do," Jasmine scoffed.
But as soon as the words left her mouth, she choked, her eyes beca misty and vacant.
There was no such thing as ’later’.
His letting go was an act of rcy.
Her letting go was also an act of rcy.
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