In a few days, won't the maniac ride on top of the Young Master's head?
This blatant retaliation, how could the Young Master not see it?
Thomas Shannon isn't dumb, he sees it, but he still enjoys it.
The endless stairs, under the nightfall, are like a golden ribbon that lights up the entire mountain.
Each step Thomas Shannon takes is steady; lying on his broad back, Sophie Sullivan doesn't feel any bumps.
Sophie rests her head on his shoulder, her voice soft, "Thomas Shannon, are you tired?"
"Not tired."
Carrying one's own woman, what kind of tiredness is that?
"If you're tired, you can tell me, we can take a break."
"Worried about me?" Thomas Shannon laughed softly and deeply, slightly tilting his head to look at her.
Sophie turns his head back, "Watch the road, don't drop me."
"Don't worry, I definitely won't drop Miss Sophie."
"Call me Miss Cecilia." Sophie arrogantly lifts her delicate chin, looking very proud.
