Sylvia's door was wide open and she was embroidering a dress in the illumination of the oil lamp. Even after she came here, Martha would send the clothes every weak that had to be embroidered for their wealthy customers. Sylvia is happy to do that since it's a way to distract her mind. His face plastered in a smile to see her. He thinks the only good thing that happened in his life was Sylvia and regrets spitting out such a harsh statement.
"Sylvia," his voice was soft, and gently patted her. She turned to him but she didn't give him that usual smile. She turned her attention to what she was doing and he sat opposite her.
"This looks so beautiful," he compliments.
"Thanks," she muttered.
"Are you not going to look at me?" he asks. She raised her gaze to his face.
"Forgive me, Sylvia. How long you're going to be like this?" Maximus asks.
She didn't reply and continued her work.
