The private room was very quiet, a far cry from the energetic scenes of accompaniment spirits and singers fluttering around like the last times he'd been there. Tim Morrison hadn't even turned on the speakers. There were over a dozen bottles of fine liquor on the coffee table, one of which was already empty. The young man with the frivolous face and affectionate eyes was sitting on the sofa, drinking straight from the bottle. When he saw Samuel Johnson coming, he raised his hand in excitement, "You're here!"
He was smiling in a somewhat stupid way, Samuel thought to himself; he really hadn't expected Tim to ever look this foolish.
The magic of love is truly frightening...
He stroked his chin.
"Brought cake too, huh?" Tim greeted him cheerily, reaching out to grab the cake in his hand, but Samuel slapped his hand away.
"Go away, this is for my wife."
"Cheapskate," Tim looked at him sourly, "you are heartless once a woman's involved."
