"You're quite good at ordering people around." Sylvan Cheney took the hairdryer she handed over, a barely noticeable smile in his eyes.
"Weren't you the one who promised to help me dry my hair in the future?" Jasmine Yale said without thinking.
"Hm?" Sylvan Cheney frowned, had he made that promise?
"Can I sit on the balcony?" Jasmine asked, not noticing his expression, putting on her clean slippers.
"Sure." Sylvan followed her over.
He thought, she probably mistook him for her deceased husband again.
Had he ever promised her he'd dry her hair?
They had only known each other for a few months, there were some promises he still remembered.
Jasmine laid a soft blanket on the chair, happily sat down, her face couldn't hide her joy. It was a kind of joy that naturally radiated from within.
She started humming a song.
Sylvan turned on the hairdryer.
Soon, the sound of the hairdryer mixed with Jasmine's singing spread across the balcony.
