Amelia felt her brain had gone haywire because of Mason Moore, filled with all sorts of negative thoughts. If this continued, it might be necessary to see a psychologist.
When Amelia came out, the man was standing in the courtyard of the community, smoking, steadfast against the wind amidst the swirling snowflakes, his form as upright and refined as bamboo.
The white smoke drifted from his mouth, and from a distance, he looked like a male fox spirit ascending to immortality, standing detached from the world, untainted by a speck of dust, alluring and handsome.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, he turned and hastily extinguished the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers before swiftly walking over to her.
"What took you so long?"
She answered nonchalantly, "Hmm, had a cup of hot coffee."
The man half-embraced her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to get in before he walked around to get into the driver's seat.
