Chapter 1380: Chapter 1380: Just Put Two Sleeping Pills
After dinner, Jasmine Yale made so desserts and ate alone.
She leaned on the sofa, not knowing why, but she had a big appetite after coming to the Cheney Residence.
Sylvan Cheney ca in, took the tiramisu from her hand, and threw it aside.
“No sweets at night.”
Jasmine Yale resentfully glanced at him: “I spent a long ti making that, and you just threw it away?”
“Unregulated and unhealthy eating, if you backtalk again, I’ll hire a nutritionist.”
“Tyrant.”
Jasmine Yale could only awkwardly stand up from the sofa, don her robe, and walk towards the bed.
Sylvan Cheney stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his tall silhouette reflected on the clear glass, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
A cigarette was pinched between his fingers, unlit.
Jasmine Yale climbed onto the bed and gathered her hair.
“Jasmine Yale.” Sylvan Cheney called her na with a deep voice, “When are you planning to go back to Cakago?”
Jasmine paused, a light mist forming in her eyes, spreading faintly.
Seemingly a bit aggrieved, her heart ached, she lowered her head and bit her lip without making a sound.
She rolled up her sleeves, rolling them up and down.
Remained silent.
The air suddenly fell into silence.
“Hmm?” His voice lifted at the end, his gaze fixed on her.
“If I go back, then what?” Jasmine Yale countered.
“Of course, you’ll go to school.”
“I can go to school, but when do you plan to visit in Cakago?”
“I’ll go when I’m free.”
“How often is that? Every six months? A year? Or five years, ten years?”
“Do you have to be so unreasonable?” Sylvan Cheney’s lips tightened.
“What if I don’t leave?” Jasmine Yale looked up at him.
She never knew she could lower herself to this extent, repeatedly pushed away by him, shalessly staying every ti.
“It’s only about what I want, not what you’re willing to do.” Sylvan Cheney made it clear.
“I don’t want to discuss this anymore, have it your way, if you want to send away, just put two sleeping pills in my tea. Rember, two pills, one won’t put to sleep.”
After speaking, Jasmine Yale flipped off the blanket, jumped off the bed, and ran out of the bedroom.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to stay in the sa room with him.
Didn’t want to speak a word to him.
Jasmine Yale ran upstairs, non-stop until she reached her own room.
With a “bang,” she closed the door, making a loud sound.
Sylvan Cheney downstairs naturally heard it.
His eyes darkened, he lit the cigarette in his hand.
Smoke swirled around the side of his face, the flickering fla between his fingers, he stood by the window, watching the vast sky outside.
The sycamore leaves in the courtyard had all fallen, leaving only bare branches.
It wouldn’t be long before new buds would sprout on the treetops.
“The phoenix sings atop the high ridges; the sycamore grows towards the morning sun.”
Upstairs, Jasmine Yale hid under the blanket and cried, her shoulders trembling, tears soaking the pillow.
Crying for a long ti is exhausting.
Jasmine Yale, tired from crying, unable to cry anymore, leaned against the headboard and fell asleep with her eyes closed.
When Sylvan Cheney ca in to see her, she wasn’t covered by the blanket, and her sleeves were rolled carelessly.
He picked her up, embraced her in his arms, and turned off the light.
It had only been three or four nights, but he seed to have already gotten used to sleeping with her in his arms.
Not sure if it was because of the sll of smoke on his clothes, Jasmine Yale moved her eyebrows, her small hand pushing him.
“Stop moving, sleep.” In the darkness, his voice was cold.
“Starting tomorrow, I won’t pay attention to you anymore.”
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