Lyra relaxed, waiting for Morris to come over.
Morris got out of the car, glanced up, and saw her standing on the steps. His face was soft, and he carried a box as he strode toward her.
Lyra caught a glimpse of the box in his hand and couldn't make out what was inside from the distance, so she didn't bother looking at it again. Her eyes returned to him, dressed in his usual three-piece black pinstriped suit, without a tie, the cuffs of his shirt extending an inch past his jacket sleeve, lapel adorned with a chain brooch.
Formal and pleasing to the eye.
One look and it was easy to fall for him.
Morris had already approached her; Lyra came to her senses and looked up at him: "Uncle, you're back."
"Hmm."
He took her hand and walked inside: "Were you waiting for me here?"
His hands enveloped hers, dry but warm.
Lyra hurriedly shook her head: "No, I just came down and saw you coming back. It was a coincidence."
After saying this, she let out a few dry laughs.
