"Miss Yale is already very impressive, making desserts, knitting scarves, good at everything, and also has good grades in school," Butler Santana praised.
Jasmine Yale smiled with pursed lips and said nothing.
It took her over an hour to finish knitting the scarf, then she packed up the greeting card and cookies and handed them over to Butler Santana.
They weren’t anything too expensive, but they were all tokens of her affection.
As long as Little Chale liked them, that was good.
After finishing all of this, she glanced at the calendar.
Including the days she had taken off, she was supposed to go back to school in five days.
As the days drew closer, the hand at her chest seed to tighten more and more, making it difficult for her to breathe.
Given Sylvan Cheney’s nature, no matter how much she coaxed or pleaded, he would not relent on matters of principle.
He would definitely take her to the airport.
The sunlight today was still splendid. During her days in Landon, the weather had been exceptionally good.
Except for so heavier smog sotis, most days were nice.
Her head felt heavy.
After drinking a cup of brown sugar tea, Jasmine Yale, clutching a hot water bottle, headed to the bedroom, "Butler Santana, I’m going to take a nap upstairs, wake up when he cos back."
"Alright, Miss Yale, rember to cover yourself well with the blanket so you won’t catch a cold."
"Mhm."
She rubbed her forehead, her stomach also aching a bit.
Curled up in bed, her ears buzzed with the humming sound, disturbing her peace of mind.
The bed was a bit cold; it took a while for her to warm it up.
Perhaps because of her period, she was a bit irritable, tossing and turning for a long ti before finally dozing off with the hot water bottle, her sleep light.
By the ti Sylvan Cheney got ho, it was completely dark.
Butler Santana took his coat from his hands and handed him slippers.
Sylvan Cheney frowned, not seeing Jasmine Yale waiting for him on the sofa as usual, his eyes dimd.
"Where is she?"
"Miss Yale is not feeling well because of her period, so she went upstairs to rest and hasn’t woken up yet."
"How long has she been asleep?"
"Not too long, Miss Yale spent the afternoon finishing the scarf for the young master and sent it out."
"I’m going to check on her."
Sylvan went upstairs to the second-floor bedroom quietly.
Outside, it was pitch dark; the moon had climbed up from the horizon, hanging over the treetops, shining brightly on the ground.
With a push of the door, Sylvan Cheney saw Jasmine Yale curled up in bed.
She seed to wake up, but also seed to be asleep, her eyes opening drowsily for a mont before closing again.
Sylvan Cheney turned on the bedside lamp and sat on the bed, pulling her into his arms.
"Umm," her lips moved slightly.
"Woken up? Stomachache?" His warm hand covered her belly over a thin layer of clothing, gently rubbing.
Jasmine Yale frowned, her eyes slightly bewildered.
"Mm, my period ca."
"You insisted on having ice cream yesterday." Sylvan Cheney felt a bit regretful for indulging her.
"I only had one because it was too hot last night, how could you be so stingy," Jasmine Yale pouted, her eyes slowly closing again.
"Do you have enough energy to go downstairs for dinner? If not, I’ll ask Butler Santana to bring it up."
"No energy," she claid boldly, "Has it gotten dark?"
"Yes, it’s late."
"Why didn’t you co ho until now? I waited for you for so long."
"Didn’t sleep?"
"Slept for a little while, but my stomach hurt, so I stopped sleeping, just lying in bed with random thoughts," Jasmine Yale, lacking strength, lay in Sylvan Cheney’s arms, her tone soft.
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