Jasmine Yale thought about it, indeed she had given him three scarves.
One was from a long time ago, the first birthday gift she gave him, a scarf she knitted with her own hands.
Does he still keep it?
"It's beautiful. How come I never knew you were so capable?" Sylvan Cheney squinted his eyes looking at her on the bed.
Being complimented by him, Jasmine's face blushed a red, and she said in a small, ashamed voice, "It's okay, I'm not that skillful, there's a lot I can't do."
"Hmm, as long as I... can do it, that's good enough."
"..." Jasmine blushed even more; she grabbed the pillow and threw it at him, "Why are you so annoying!"
Sylvan Cheney strode over with his long legs and bent down to clasp her hand.
Fingers entwined, brimming with tender affection.
"Don't like it?" he raised an eyebrow.
Jasmine: "..."
