His body smelled strongly of smoke.
Jasmine Yale sniffed, looking up at him.
During those twelve years, he was careful and she rarely saw him smoke.
But now, he seemed to suppress himself less when he was in front of her, smoking heavily.
He went to the bedside and held her hand.
The next second, his eyebrows knotted, "Your hands are so cold. Stop reading, go to sleep early."
Jasmine Yale reflexively drew her hand back.
She was naturally cold-blooded, her hands and feet freezing in winter. She had just started her period, and would probably get even colder later on.
Jasmine didn't want to sleep, she simply couldn't.
"Does your stomach hurt?" Sylvan Cheney asked.
He remembered, when she had her period, she would always be in so much pain.
But it seemed like she was doing okay today.
Jasmine shook her head: "It's not that bad."
"I'll make you a cup of brown sugar water. Drink it before you sleep." Sylvan stood up.
