The woman was half-squatting beside the sofa, her delicate hands touching the man's forehead. She discovered the fever had subsided a little, and a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
The moon outside the window had disappeared, a faint white light was peering out from the east, and the snow was falling at a slant of 45°, the white curtains faintly glowing with blurred light.
The bedside lamp was already off.
Rosie's head gently rested on the man's chest, listening to his strong and powerful heartbeat, her blood felt as if it had been activated.
"Ya... Wah... Eemuama..." Sylvia woke up, at her age she always loved to babble, but fortunately, she wouldn't cry when awakened, unless she was extremely hungry, she would cry loudly until she was hoarse.
Just as Rosie was about to stand up, she heard Charles' slightly hoarse voice in her ear: "Last night, you kissed me."
"No, I didn't."
"I saw it with my own eyes."
"You're getting senile."
