Jasmine Yale always feels that Sylvan Cheney is busier than before and hesitates to disturb him. Even when she bathes at night, if she can do it herself, she won't trouble him.
She's not actually used to being cared for like this; she just enjoys the time spent with him.
That night.
It's already past midnight. Sylvan Cheney has probably just returned from a social event, and there's a strong scent of alcohol on him.
He walks to the bedroom without turning on the light, using the faint moonlight to look at Jasmine Yale sleeping peacefully on the bed.
She habitually curls up when she sleeps, her black hair covering half of her face.
Her sleeping face is exceptionally serene.
Sylvan Cheney isn't drunk; he bends down and gently strokes her cheek with his fingers.
Perhaps because his fingers are too cold, Jasmine Yale moves her lips and arm, waking up.
In the darkness, she can't see him, but she knows it's him.
"You're back?"
"Mm."
