Everything he said ca straight from the heart, though he knew Lilac Serval was quite skilled.
"I’m getting older, staying up late takes a toll now. I’ll go out less often. Better to sleep soundly at night—early to bed, early to rise," Lilac Serval chuckled self-deprecatingly.
Compared to Little Eleven, she wasn’t young anymore.
"No way, Sister Lilac, you look way prettier than the girls in our class. How could you say you’re getting old? But early to bed and early to rise is good for your health—that, I do support."
"Why don’t you tell about the classes you take at school, the activities you do—are they fun?"
"Sure!" Talking about familiar topics, Little Eleven grew animated. "We don’t have a lot of classes. The one I’m best at is advanced math. Back in high school, I was okay at math, but my English isn’t great. I failed the college English exam once. This year, I plan to work harder on it."
"If your English isn’t great, you can ask to teach you. Don’t forget, I grew up in Lonton."
"Right, right, Sister Lilac, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to learn from you."
"It’s no trouble."
Lilac Serval’s expression was soft and gentle, like peach blossoms blooming in March—a blend of charm and vibrancy.
Little Eleven went on chatting with Lilac Serval about their school’s activities: autumn outings, departnt parties, all kinds of competitions...
He talked with great enthusiasm, and Lilac Serval listened quietly, the corners of her lips softly curved upward throughout.
School—a world she had never experienced.
Everything about that world ca to her through stories and guesses.
But she knew it was a pure world, a purity she longed for.
As she listened, Lilac Serval eventually leaned against the window and fell asleep, still wearing Little Eleven’s scarf around her neck.
Her cheek pressed against the scarf, and in this mont, Lilac Serval seed even more tender.
Several tis, Little Eleven couldn’t help but steal glances at her, both moved by her exhaustion and by her loneliness.
He knew she was an orphan. She seed indestructible, with such skill and strength, yet he couldn’t help but feel protective of her.
After Lilac Serval fell asleep, he stopped talking, focused intently on driving, steady and careful, afraid of waking her.
Little Eleven thought no matter what, nothing could compare to ti spent with her—simple and uncomplicated.
The thought of her leaving soon weighed heavily on him, a sadness creeping into his heart.
He dreaded the idea that once she left, it might be a year—maybe even longer—before they’d et again.
Under the brilliant starlit sky, a car drove along a wide avenue lit by rows of streetlights, open and boundless.
It was a long while before the car finally reached the bustling city center.
Stopping at a traffic light, Little Eleven brought the car to a halt.
Lilac Serval stirred, moving her arm. She opened her eyes, realizing they had already made it to the city, likely close to the apartnt.
"I slept for a long ti." She rubbed her eyes.
"Go ho and get so good rest. I’ll stop by a store later and grab you so honey milk and rose essential oil—you can take a bath before bed. You’ll feel great."
"Did you make good money tonight?" Lilac Serval asked with a playful smile.
"Made a bit. Got a pretty generous tip from a custor, so I’m using it all to buy Sister Lilac so stuff."
"Well then, I’ll accept graciously," Lilac Serval replied, her gaze soft and gentle.
Seeing her accept made Little Eleven happy.
He was young, and his happiness was laid bare, shining brightly on his face.
The car made a turn and stopped outside a boutique shop. Little Eleven jumped out and went inside to buy things for Lilac Serval.
While waiting in the car, Lilac Serval used the mont to call Sylvan Cheney.
"Mr. Cheney, am I bothering you?"
Sylvan Cheney had just finished his bath: "No, not at all."
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