Watching Sumr Fairmont’s swift comings and goings, Artie Vaughn was montarily at a loss for words to describe his feelings.
Why is it that besides having a Lolita face and a devilish figure, she has no other talents?
Why does she always fail more than she succeeds? Is that idiom custom-made just for her?
Mom powerfully managed to help whisk away the boy Artie suddenly started daydreaming about back ho in the past two days.
And without a word, she directly arranged for him to be "in bed."
Such a pri opportunity, so close to him in proximity.
She, the Devilish Lolita who charges forward like the sun, couldn’t even complete the simple task of delivering porridge to the room herself.
Simply too wronged!
Usually, whenever The Pouting Siren felt even a little wronged, she could cry on Sumr Fairmont, who never pampered her.
Today, after enduring such a big grievance, she couldn’t show it.
She couldn’t let Sumr think Artie only knew how to serve food to n who ca to the house.
Finally, with her brother’s guidance and her mom’s help, she brought Master Sean Lowell back ho.
Isn’t it said that taking care of the "otherworldly" in their sickness is the best way to deepen the feelings of those who accidentally wandered into the mundane world?
Now it’s good, a perfectly good hand was played terribly.
Simply too hard!
The Devilish Lolita’s feelings were a bit complex.
Wronged, guilty.
Depressed, yet excited.
Artie, carrying such complex emotions, moved toward the direction of the care room from where Sumr Fairmont took over the tray.
She hesitated a bit, wondering if she should follow Sumr inside to check in on Master Sean Lowell.
Artie even kind of forgot how Sumr Fairmont moved as swiftly as the wind.
Artie hadn’t even crossed a third of the big living room when Sumr had already co out.
Sumr Fairmont pointed to the direction of the dining room, signaling Artie to head back imdiately.
Artie blinked her cartoonishly big eyes, bit her lower lip, swallowed her emotions, and nodded energetically at Sumr, reinforcing her own determination with her actions.
[Artie always listens to Sumr, Artie won’t let Sumr get mad twice in one day, Artie will be good.]
The Pouting Siren furiously constructed ntal fortitude, only to hear Sumr Fairmont’s two-word command launch a new round of assault on her eardrums.
"Utensils."
Cold, without emotion.
Sumr Fairmont’s two-word commands happened every day, but not every ti did they turn into heavenly sounds in Artie’s ears.
"Ah right, Artie silly forgot to bring the utensils!" Artie quickly stepped forward, hooked her arm around Sumr Fairmont, and headed back to the dining room with her.
As they walked, she racked her brains: "Then Artie will quickly take the utensils to Master Sean Lowell, and Sumr, you go eat first?"
Artie confird Sumr Fairmont’s intentions a second ti.
"Mm."
The sa tone made Sean hesitate, but filled Artie with joy.
Sumr Fairmont did not oppose Artie going to see Sean, the boy she suddenly declared she liked without any warning.
What Sumr Fairmont objected to was the little princess insisting on carrying a tray herself and dropping it.
Dropping it ten or twenty tis a day—wouldn’t the floor hurt?
The floor being constantly dropped upon by a siren with a Lolita face and a devilish figure is one thing—adding intimate contact with a tray and porcelain bowls, wouldn’t it be troubleso if the floor broke?
Replacing a carpet is easy, but replacing the floor is hard.
Even if it were Artie’s own flooring.
Artie hopped back to the dining room and asked the butler for two utensils suitable for consuming porridge.
Sumr Fairmont always knew what Artie wanted most.
Even when her untouchable childhood was touched.
Sumr Fairmont’s coldness was always just a facade.
In fact, no one is more ticulous than her.
But, in this world, there are hardly any, whom Sumr Fairmont is willing to spend her effort on.
She didn’t have the heart of The Pouting Siren, unable to contain love for the entire world.
Artie confird that Sumr Fairmont held no grudge from the earlier "catching in the act" scene, then began to ponder: [Should I change into sothing nicer before heading back in?]
Thinking about how Master Sean Lowell hadn’t eaten from eting at the club at night until now, The Pouting Siren dismissed the small selfish thought that arose from the depths of her heart.
The already arranged in bed Master Sean Lowell—seeing him one more second is earning one more second.
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