After sending Cecilia Wilson home, the Fifth Young Master tossed and turned all night, suffering from insomnia.
Unable to sleep, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
Atlas Hallow was sitting on the sofa in the apartment, while Charlotte Miller was taking a shower in the bathroom. The evening was a rare moment of peace, as he had promised to watch a movie with her.
As he was selecting a movie, the phone rang. Atlas picked it up and his thin lips curled into a playful smile.
"It's so late, aren't you afraid of interrupting my nightlife? Not that you'd understand anyway..." Atlas' deep voice rose in the dark air, carrying a hint of irony.
"What don't I understand, huh?" The Fifth Young Master retorted with annoyance, coldly snorting.
"You're always distant from women, haven't even touched a woman's hand. What could you possibly understand?" Atlas looked at the dim light coming from the bathroom, his smile deepening.
