Shivering Under the Warm Palm

In the late night, Cynthia nestled in Tristan's embrace. She looked up at the silent man in front of her, extending her fingertips to tap lightly on the prominent Adam's apple, "Are you still angry?"

At her words, Tristan slightly lowered his head, looking at her. The cold breath infiltrated her every breath. "I'm just wondering when you'll trust me more."

She freed herself from his embrace, supporting herself with both hands, looking down at him with a burning gaze, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if contemplating something.

To be honest, in this world, there were only a few people who truly mattered to Cynthia, but Tristan was an exception. She hadn't expected that this dominating figure who had entered her life would catch her off guard and bring her some rare warmth.

Suddenly, she said casually, "It's just that I've been used to relying on myself for everything these years."