Evening.
Villa.
When Trenton Smith came out of the study, Norris Moore hadn't gone to bed yet.
She was sitting on the bed, eating cake.
Maybe it was because she had just taken a bath; her body was still glowing faintly pink, her hair had just been blow-dried and was fluffy, lying on her shoulders. She sat with her legs crossed, seriously holding a small fork as she ate.
She looked very childish.
Trenton sat down next to her and asked, "Did you have fun shooting the ad?"
Norris thought for a moment with the fork in her mouth, recalled the dumbfounded expressions of the crew during the shoot, and laughed, "It was fun."
Trenton looked at the relaxed eyebrows and eyes on her little face - her clever and mischievous appearance was really likable - like a precious and carefully bred cat, with an innocent allure. His eyes darkened, and he reached out to take the fork from her mouth. Then he lowered his head and lightly kissed her.
