After a night of hangover, Daxton Lancaster rubbed his temples and responded with a nasal sound.
Actually, Violet Zimmerman had long been awake, but she was worried about waking the man whose arm was around her, so she pretended to sleep.
Upon hearing the man respond, Violet opened her eyes, tilted her face, and looked up from under the man's chin.
After a night, stubble had sprouted in a bluish tint on the man's chin. When he rubbed his temples, his chin brushed against her forehead, tickling, a sensation she had never experienced, quite wondrous.
Violet smiled, raised her hand, and gently rubbed the other side of Daxton Lancaster's temple. He opened his eyes slightly and glanced at her. Violet tenderly said, "Good morning."
In the morning light, the woman's face was like a peach blossom in March, showing an enticing pink hue. Daxton Lancaster's eyes darkened slightly but suddenly lifted the big red wedding quilt.
"Get up, let's go and serve tea to Grandpa."
