"Sophia Phoenix, I'm hungry."
Putting down the absorbent towel, Tilly Flower turned her head to look at him.
Sophia Phoenix walked over and picked up the hairdryer, "Let's dry your hair before we eat."
Although the central air conditioning was on in the villa, the weather in London in December was still harsh, and it might be freezing to go downstairs with damp hair for dinner.
Tilly curled up on the sofa, and Sophia Phoenix stood behind her, drying her hair.
Tilly's hair was thick, and even though it was short, it took a while to dry.
The warm air made her dozy, and she started a conversation for the sake of it, "Sophia Phoenix."
"Hm?"
"Have you ever dried Gigi Turner's hair?"
"..."
"Have you two been to bed?"
"No."
"So, you're saying you've dried her hair?"
"..."
She hugged her knees and laughed somewhat adorably, "Why the silence, I'm not going to blame you."
