It could only be said that they both used each other for their own purposes.
Whether it was taking advantage of each other or not, what did it matter?
That night, Sophie Sullivan ate all the spicy, heavy-taste food she had been craving. Meat or vegetables, hot or spicy—she refused nothing. She ate until her little belly was round and full, so stuffed she could barely move, before finally putting down her chopsticks.
Thomas Shannon, who had long since put down his chopsticks, held Harry and stroked its fur absentmindedly. His cold eyes glanced at Sophie. "Are you the reincarnation of a starving ghost?" Her ravenous gobbling lacked any trace of feminine delicacy.
Sophie snorted. "I'm the one going under the knife tomorrow. Can't you stop looking down on me? Show me a little care, will you?"
With a sneer, Thomas Shannon stood up, still holding Harry. "You don't look like you need any care."
"Nonsense."
