After a night of lingering passion, she slept deeply.
She had long grown used to the scent of Allen beside her as she fell asleep—a faint, clean fragrance, warm and comforting, like the fresh, youthful aura of a college boy.
With Allen, she could let her guard down completely, allowing herself to be cared for in every little way.
Perhaps his emotional intelligence had something to do with being a singing and chatting content creator. But it felt more like an innate talent. Even with countless fans, he could still make each person feel noticed, taken care of.
His fans go insane for him—spending thousands in one night like it's nothing.
As for his peers, their jealousy could only turn into silent frustration. Day after day, they watched him casually receive tens of thousands worth of virtual gifts, his ranking unwavering at the top.
Even a short video he posted on a whim could explode overnight.
On camera—his shoulders were well-defined, collarbones sharp, lean yet firm muscles tracing smooth lines beneath his skin. It was the perfect balance of strength and youth. His complexion was clear, his features sculpted yet soft, and when he smiled, there was an almost innocent kind of allure.
That rare presence—hovering between boy and man—was irresistible.
The comments always flooded in—
"Who could resist this?"
"If he looked at me once, I'd fall instantly."
"Where do I get a boyfriend like this?"
And yet—
This very man…
Was unbelievably gentle in front of Tiffany.
When she was upset, he would quietly stay by her side, patiently guiding her through it, occasionally slipping in just the right amount of humor to pull her out of her mood.
When she was happy, he became like a clingy puppy—eyes bright, circling around her, playing with her, laughing with her.
A man like this…
And she had still been thinking about that trashy guy who toyed with her last night?
She couldn't help but scoff inwardly.
This brain of hers really needed a reset.
—
Allen gently pulled the curtains open.
Their place wasn't luxurious, but it had a refined charm. Light wooden floors, clean and warm underfoot. Floor-to-ceiling windows let the morning light pour in, illuminating a small plant by the window, its leaves glowing softly. A rug beside the bed softened every step, almost soundless.
The whole space felt quiet, clean, and gently lived-in.
Sunlight slowly spilled across Tiffany's face.
She lay on her side, breathing evenly. Her skin had that healthy, luminous fairness—smooth and almost porcelain-like under the light. Her nose bridge was delicate and straight, her lips naturally soft in color.
She wore a light silk nightdress, the fabric resting against her body, rising and falling gently with each breath.
Her long lashes fluttered faintly.
As if sensing the light, she slowly opened her eyes.
And the moment her vision cleared—
She met his gaze.
Allen was leaning against the edge of the bed, quietly watching her.
Like he was admiring something too beautiful to disturb.
That face… that gentle rise and fall of her breathing…
He had been staring a little too long.
The moment he was caught, Allen cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed, looking away—only to smile again, unable to help it.
"Hey, sis… you're awake?"
His voice was soft, almost melting.
"Go freshen up and come eat breakfast."
He blinked, a hint of pride in his tone as he added—
"I made something new today—French toast with scrambled eggs, and an avocado salad."
"And I've got good news for you, too."
Tiffany responded lazily, pushing herself up.
She glanced at him—
Her eyes landing on what he was wearing.
A cartoon-patterned apron hung loosely over him.
The contrast was almost ridiculous.
She couldn't help but laugh.
"You look… way too cute like that."
With that, she threw off the blanket and got out of bed.
Her legs—long, straight, flawless—moved with the effortless elegance of a runway model.
She didn't look back, walking straight toward the bathroom.
But at the corner of her lips—
A faint smile lingered at the corner of her lips.