Paris Arden-Nicholson had the same feeling. He bent down, his strikingly handsome face close to the little girl. His eyes, bright as the stars, reflected Gigi's figure. He reached out a finger and poked the chubby little cheek of the girl, "Are you asking me to wait until you grow up?"
"Mm-hmm, Gigi likes you." She responded seriously, nodding her little head like a chick pecking at grain.
Her childish voice saying "like" sounded a bit like "sheet-ann" at first, which was inexplicably funny.
Paris Arden-Nicholson's mouth lifted in a smile, probably finding her too amusing. He couldn't help but reach out and poke her chubby cheek again, "Do you even know what marriage means at your age?"
"Yes, I do. Brubby said that marriage is when two people eat together and sleep together. You're good-looking, and Gigi is also good-looking. Gigi wants to sleep with you." The little girl babbled in her sweet voice, her thoughts clear and her expression articulate.
