"How does it taste? Is it good?"
She nodded her head to show that it was delicious. Anyway, she was very hungry. At this moment, as long as it was something to eat, as long as it was not something bad, it was considered delicious.
The noodle soup was delicious, but after a few mouthfuls, her mouth felt a little dry, and her eyes involuntarily fell into the bowl of noodle soup. Before she could speak, James had already scooped up the soup with a disposable plastic spoon and brought it to her mouth.
"Hello,"
Emmy could not help but protest:
"I can drink soup with a spoon in my left hand."
"Open your mouth,"
His thin, tightly pressed lips spat out two words, completely devoid of any intention of making her stand on her own.
Emmy looked helplessly at the man beside the bed. Under the soft light, his deep facial features were exceptionally delicate, even his lunch box and spoon looked so harmonious.
