Good girl?
A tremble seized Camilla's heart.
This form of address was only heard by her when Sinclair was passionately in love in the previous life.
"I want to get up now."
"It's too early," Sinclair slightly exerted his arm's strength, drawing his tender and soft wife into his embrace.
"Rest a bit more." His drowsy and hoarse voice, carrying a beguiling charm, was brewing beside Camilla's ear.
"Sweetheart," Something suddenly occurred to Camilla.
"I got drunk last night... I can't remember what I did... what I said."
The effects of last night's alcohol had completely dissipated, and the sober her didn't want to recall her own 'courting death' behavior the previous evening.
"You can't remember?" Sinclair's hand gently rubbed Camilla's back, his narrow eyes slightly narrowed, his tone ambiguous.
"Do you even remember the words of love you once said to me?"
There was a slight force in his touch, his voice deep and low.
"Love, should I help you remember?"
