Sylvan Cheney came home to find Jasmine Yale already asleep.
She didn't turn off the light; she had dozed off while watching TV, still sitting upright.
Under the light, Jasmine's cheeks were a rosy white, her lips a luscious red, her black hair cascading over her shoulders, emanating a soft aura.
Sylvan covered her with a blanket.
But with just a slight movement, Jasmine woke up.
Her long eyelashes fluttered as she looked at him: "Are you done with work?"
"Mmm," Sylvan replied, "waiting for me?"
"Yeah." Jasmine snuggled into his embrace, rubbing against him tenderly, "Waiting for you."
She couldn't sleep without him.
It doesn't take many days to form a habit.
But changing it might be... difficult for a lifetime.
She touched the back of his hand and frowned: "Why are your hands so cold, and your clothes, you... went out?"
She noticed he was still wearing the same clothes from the day without changing them.
"Just went to the balcony for a few smokes."
