Jasmine Yale listened to the lingering rain outside the window.
She knew that at Sylvan Cheney's age, it wouldn't be possible for him to join her wild whims; in his eyes, a gentle trickle might be far superior to a blazing inferno.
She wasn't someone who often went wild either, just occasionally willful.
After dinner.
Sylvan Cheney handed her a gift.
It was a set of custom perfumes for each month, twelve in total.
"January for plum blossom, February for orchids, March for peach blossoms..." Jasmine counted and examined each one.
Unique packaging, different scents, just a light touch left a lasting fragrance on her hands.
Each bottle was designed with a different shape and color, only united by the bow at the neck.
To her surprise, Jasmine discovered two tiny words on the January and December bottles, one "Jasmine," the other "Yale."
Suddenly, her heart was pleasantly surprised by this small detail.
