After the meal, Jasmine Yale leaned against Sylvan Cheney, her small hand wrapped around his waist, snuggling against his warm chest.
Sylvan Cheney embraced her casually: "Did you enjoy lunch? How was the taste? If there's anything you didn't like, tell me and I'll change it."
"With someone as picky as you handling the cooking, how could there be anything not to like? I'm very satisfied, I'll give you a hundred points, not afraid you'll become arrogant."
"You little thing, you really know how to flatter people."
"Could you keep chatting with me for a while longer? Just let me lean against you like this. If I get tired and fall asleep, could you carry me to bed?"
"Alright, what do you want to talk about?"
"Do you… have anything you're hiding from me?"
"Why are you asking this? What could I be hiding from you? Little imagination, thinking all sorts of silly thoughts all day." He rubbed her hair.
