Restless Thoughts

When Cynthia returned to the guest room, she placed a glass of water on the bedside table. Her gaze fell upon Tristan, who was still in deep slumber. Perhaps due to being immersed in sleep, he lacked the usual sharpness and coldness, gaining a touch of softness.

The well-defined facial features appeared even more profound and three-dimensional in the dim light. His delicate brows and eyes resembled an exquisite traditional Chinese painting.

Cynthia couldn't help but sigh. How could there be such a perfect man in the world? Not only did he have flawless skin, but he was impeccable from every angle. The key point was that this man belonged to her.

With this thought, a spontaneous smile curved Cynthia's lips. She leaned over the edge of the bed, wholly absorbed in admiring the man's face.

Suddenly, an idea crossed her mind. Slowly approaching, she lightly pecked his lips and withdrew.