"Slow down, be careful not to burn yourself."
Henry Ronan's timely reminder coincided almost exactly with Lucy Ansley's action of drinking tea.
But it was already too late.
A small sip of the strong tea went down her throat, and the heat of it mirrored the sour mood Lucy was in.
After all, it was made with freshly boiled water, and the scalding sensation made her lips tingle, her eyes misty with tears.
"Why are you so absent-minded?" The man looked at her slightly parted lips, constantly inhaling, and quickly set down his teacup, unscrewing the mineral water and handing it to her, "Did it burn you?"
Lucy gulped down several mouthfuls of mineral water before shaking her head sullenly.
She didn't want to speak, couldn't speak, her tongue still numb.
Seeing this, Henry sighed and stood up, walked around the coffee table to her, and naturally placed his palm on top of her head, "Look up."
