"Sophie, get up and take a shower," Charles Seymour said helplessly, sitting on the edge of the bed, patting the lump on the bed.
The lump on the bed moved a bit, and the person hiding inside pretended not to hear, steadfastly resisted, and refused to come out.
Charles patted again, and suddenly there was a delicate cry from under the covers. Sophie Wilson threw off the blanket, revealing herself, her eyes sparkling with charm, a faint blush at the corners of her eyes drawing his soul, almost transforming Charles into a wolf ready to pounce right onto her.
Fortunately, his self-control was strong enough; he took a deep breath and suppressed his restless emotions.
His muscles simply tightened, resisting the instincts of his body.
"Why are you patting me?" Sophie pouted angrily, grimacing at him. How annoying.
"Don't stay buried under the covers. Take a shower and then sleep," Charles said with amusement.
