The hospital room suddenly fell silent.
After a long while, Jesse Rowan yawned and sat on the sofa, resting his head on her lap.
Joan Harry glanced at him disdainfully and moved aside.
Jesse Rowan was persistent, grabbing her hand and softly saying, "I want to sleep, don't move, just let me lean on you."
He pressed against her legs, leaving her no choice but to acquiesce.
Joan Harry's heart was calm, like a serene lake, without a ripple.
Outside the window, the rain was pattering, occasionally beating against the glass with a "pitter-patter" sound.
Joan Harry initially wanted to push Jesse Rowan away, but unexpectedly, within minutes, he fell asleep on her lap.
The sleeping Jesse Rowan looked harmless, with clean bangs, long black eyelashes, and tightly pressed thin lips.
His face was still flushed, the effects of the alcohol not fully dissipated.
The sleeping Jesse Rowan lost his usual vile, wicked demeanor, resembling an angel harmless to others.
