After the movie, Jasmine Yale still couldn't bear to leave, leaning on his shoulder, rubbing against the nape of his neck.
Her emotions had improved a bit, but there were still ripples lingering in her heart.
Like lilac flowers in the spring rain, always tinged with a hint of melancholy.
Indecipherable and inextricable.
"Do you still need my company?" Sylvan Cheney rubbed her hair gently.
"You go ahead with your things, I'll go cook."
"Cook?"
"I just browsed through a food magazine for a while, tonight, I'll make something for you to eat. Don't look down on it if it's not good, okay?"
"Sure." Sylvan Cheney didn't argue.
Leaving the screening room, Sylvan Cheney took Jasmine Yale downstairs.
Jasmine Yale changed into a set of clean clothes and tied her hair with a fresh floral hairband, taking the magazine with her to the kitchen.
The feelings were somewhat still there.
