Sophie Sullivan couldn't help but click her tongue in amazement, "Thomas Shannon, why don't you tell me, what kind of identity do I have?"
Little rascal, always hiding things usually, now finally can you spill a bit of the truth?
"Guess, what kind of identity you have in my heart." Even though his hand was mercilessly slapped away by her, Thomas quickly grabbed her soft, boneless tiny hand, squeezing and playing with it.
Sophie Sullivan widened her beautiful eyes, "Thomas Shannon, I'm asking you a question, how can you throw the question back to me?"
Shameless!
He laughed deeply, pinched her chubby earlobe, and got back to the topic, "Fennie, you'd better completely dispel the notion that we'll part ways because it's never going to happen in this lifetime."
"Why not? Anything is possible."
Thomas Shannon's voice was deep, carrying an imposing air, "I said it's not possible, so it's not possible, no reason!"
"Tsk tsk, overbearing! Dictator!"
