She didn't feel sleepy at all, she just wanted to lie motionlessly on his lap and keep talking nonstop.
Sylvan Cheney was helpless, his heart beating regularly.
"Mr. Cheney..." she called him, "could you please bring Little Chale home? The poor thing is very lonely in Lonton..."
"He's a boy, what's there to be lonely about?"
"Boys are human too, and he's still so young, unreasonable."
"You don't need to worry about Chaley."
"Not worrying, what should I worry about then? I don't want to worry about anything to do with your family," Jasmine Yale snorted coldly.
"Going to sleep or not? If you're not sleeping, then I am," Sylvan Cheney didn't want to deal with her anymore.
He knew this girl would just get more and more into it and wanted to tell him everything.
At this time, it was nearly three o'clock in the morning.
She smelled faintly of alcohol, her whole being like a bunch of grapes, hanging onto him.
