"President, I’m telling you, I hold grudges. I’ve rembered that." Jasmine Yale glared at him.
"..." Sylvan Cheney remained unmoved.
"Just give a five-star rating, it’s not hard, just a casual stroke of the pen. Give it to , please, is that okay...?"
"Do you want it?"
"Yes, I do."
Sylvan Cheney’s throat moved, and he turned his head to look at her, his gaze intense.
"..." Jasmine Yale blushed, only then realizing where the misunderstanding lay.
Sylvan Cheney grasped her tighter in his embrace: "When are you going to school? Do you have to submit an internship report?"
"Next week, I guess. Although the course is over, there are still many minor details to handle."
"Shall I go with you?"
"You’d better not. I want to keep a low profile."
"What makes you think I would be high profile? Am I that kind of person?"
"President, don’t you know that just standing in a crowd, you attract all the attention? You have no self-awareness." Jasmine poked his chest, "Or do you want to go to school and check out the pretty girls? Let tell you, there are many beauties, fair skin, pretty faces, and long legs."
"No one is more beautiful than you." Sylvan Cheney caught her wandering hand.
Jasmine Yale was overjoyed: "It’s okay if you want to go, but you have to listen to , don’t wander off, and definitely don’t badmouth in front of my teachers. Of course, most importantly, give a five-star rating."
"Got it."
In her heart, Jasmine hoped he’d accompany her. She also wanted to walk with him on the university campus, gazing at the autumn scenery and falling yellow leaves.
Jasmine Yale and he cuddled on the bed, chatting casually, occasionally watching a show, other tis looking at the view out the window, feeling cozy and at ease.
The breeze was gentle, the sky blue.
...
This weekend was the most comfortable she had spent since coming to Cakago.
She really liked the gentle Sylvan Cheney. Though he had the temper of a young wolf, he would imdiately calm down if she was displeased.
He had learned to cheer her up, learned to apologize, learned to chat, and even learned to flirt with her.
The Sylvan Cheney now compared to before, no longer had that lofty air, pressing her down. Being with him, she felt an unprecedented lightness.
A complete relaxation.
No need to worry about saying the wrong word, no need to guess his expressions or intentions.
He would speak plainly of his affection for her, openly express if he missed her; being with this version of him did not feel tiring.
He no longer needed to bear those heavy and bloody burdens from the past, mories that ca with pain.
In the evening, as the sun set in the west.
Walking out of the cinema together, the sunset’s afterglow draped over Jasmine Yale and Sylvan Cheney like a delicate veil.
Jasmine pointed at a store: "I want to eat fried chicken, is that okay?"
"No, I’ll take you to eat sothing else." Sylvan Cheney refused.
"I haven’t had it in so long, please buy it for just this once."
"Fried chicken has too many hormones, it’s not nutritious, it’s not good for the baby. You don’t want to have a little fool, do you?" Sylvan Cheney earnestly explained, still holding her unfinished milk tea.
"Oh, then let’s not have it." Jasmine looked longingly and didn’t say another word.
"Good girl." Sylvan freed a hand and proactively held her fingers.
Initially expecting Jasmine to refuse, but unexpectedly, she complied.
It started with entwined fingers, and soon their fingers were interlocked.
In the sunset, their silhouettes intertwined, forming a tangled, beautiful scene.
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