Along the way back to Martina's place, the stranger didn't utter a single word. He thought she couldn't recognize him at all.
However, before they reached into the intersection, Martina murmured things. She was badly drunk and even her breath smelled like a fine wine.
A mischievous smile flaunted on her crimson lips. She turned her gaze on the driver's face and took a deep breath.
"Hmm, you smelled like someone I knew," she murmured.
A cold, comfortable breeze touched on her bare skin. Martina never cared about her health. She should have brought a jacket to cover her back.
The man suddenly parked the car alongside the road. He couldn't bear to see Martina wrapped by the cold wind.
He sighed deeply and took off his gold coat. Without any doubt, he put it into Martina's back.
"You're still the same, Martina." He spoke and looked at her face for a few seconds.
