"Who allowed you to call by my na." Sylvan Cheney frowned, "I said, I’m returning to Cakago tomorrow."
"I don’t like calling you by your na, huh? If you don’t like it, then I won’t call it," Jasmine Yale pouted, "Answer one question, what do you take for, answer ."
"Jasmine Yale, aren’t you annoying."
"If you really see as a woman who’s for sale, as a woman anyone can be with, then give money, right now."
"Jasmine Yale, are you provoking ? Huh?" There was a hint of anger in Sylvan Cheney’s tone.
She was provoking his limits.
"Yes." Jasmine didn’t deny it, "If you don’t give it, then I’ll take it as you considering as your wife."
"You really have no sha."
"It’s you who had no sha to begin with, not giving the dicine when you clearly had it, and also taking ... once, twice, three, four tis!"
"..." Sylvan Cheney had a headache.
"It’s clearly you who had no sha."
"That wasn’t the antidote." Sylvan Cheney said indifferently, "Just my usual dicine for stomach pain."
"You!" Jasmine Yale couldn’t hold back, she sat up and bit his shoulder, she had never seen soone so shaless.
"Jasmine Yale!" Sylvan Cheney frowned, "Scratching and biting, do you really think you’re a little dog? Huh?"
"How can you be so shaless, how can you bully ..." Jasmine Yale leaned on his shoulder, crying softly, her sobs filling the car.
"Stop crying, what’s there to cry about, put on your clothes."
"I won’t wear them."
"You won’t wear them?"
"I won’t!"
Sylvan Cheney ignored her, he reached for his own clothes, prepared to get dressed and drive back to the Cheney Residence.
Inside the car, the faint rustling sound of clothes being put on could be heard.
Jasmine Yale pressed down on his hand: "Dressing up and then running off? Are you even human?"
"..."
Sylvan Cheney didn’t speak.
It seed, none of her actions or coquettish behavior could stop his determination to leave.
Soon, he was dressed.
Under the moonlight, his neck bore streaks of bloody scratches and bite marks.
He sat back down in the driver’s seat, his face somber, not planning to say much.
He turned on the car’s interior light.
When the light ca on, Jasmine Yale’s first reaction was to frantically grab her own clothes.
He was already neatly dressed, sitting prim and proper as if nothing happened, his features dark and distinct.
Without the light, it’s one thing, but with the light on, it’s another.
Jasmine Yale’s face turned red for a mont, as she put on her clothes.
Sylvan Cheney’s slender fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, he was waiting for her patiently.
With the light on, it was as if nothing had happened.
Jasmine Yale got dressed, her watery eyes glanced at him.
He really acted as if nothing had happened, silent, his expression brooding and cold.
Jasmine Yale saw in the mirror the kiss marks on her body, also knowing how wild they were that night.
But when the pleasure faded, all he had for her was still indifference.
The light on, Jasmine Yale suddenly lost her interest in acting spoiled. She lowered her head to fix her hair, leaning against the window, her gaze lost and vague.
Recalling everything that had happened in the car tonight, it felt like a dream.
She rarely acted spoiled, but tonight she did too much, even... begging him for pleasure.
She twirled her hair with her fingers, her head lowered.
"Are you done," Sylvan Cheney’s voice was low, not much warmth in his tone.
"Yeah." She lowered her head, not looking at him.
Sylvan Cheney turned off the car’s interior light once again and started the vehicle.
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