Zane Thorne sat down opposite Natalie Vaughn, watching her casually wipe the table with a tissue, raising an eyebrow, amusement in his eyes.
Finally, he believed that Natalie Vaughn was once a school bully.
Natalie rolled up her sleeves, crossing her arms to support her chin.
"Go on, what do you want?"
The sunset fell, the orange-red glow tinting Natalie's hair and clothes.
Earlier, she found the wind too strong and had tied up her hair carelessly, the wisps by her forehead adding a touch of charm. A floral shirt, a pair of jeans, she exuded the beauty of a 90s Hong Kong magazine model.
Zane looked up at her, surprised at how versatile Natalie truly was. No matter what she wore, she seemed to find a way to blend in effortlessly.
Sweet, capable, beautiful, dashing, and lazy, as she was now.
"What are your requirements for the wedding?"
