When Tristan walked in, Cynthia was inspecting the kiss marks on her collarbone in the mirror.
Hearing the sound near the door, Cynthia raised her eyes and looked over. She was dressed in a light pink nightgown, which contrasted with her flawless, jade-like fair skin, revealing delicate collarbones marked with ambiguous traces.
Seeing the expression on Tristan's face, Cynthia suddenly had a bad premonition. She quickly turned around to pick out some clothes.
"I'll help you choose," Tristan walked over, his arm circling her slender waist, his warm chest pressing tightly against her back.
The current posture inevitably reminded Cynthia of the wild abandon of last night. A faint blush appeared on her fair cheeks.
Tristan picked out a ruffled blouse for Cynthia, paired with a light-colored scarf that conveniently covered the marks on her neck.
"After you change, let's go eat?" Tristan handed her the clothes, lightly kissing her temple.
Cynthia responded faintly.