CHAPTER 134: CHAPTER 134: MEMORIES (34)

Ethan Harper pushed the door open and entered, finding Florence Fuller fast asleep in the bed he usually slept in. He walked to the bedside and stared at her.

The pink blush from drinking hadn’t faded from her face. Her cheeks were fair and rosy, her hair a bit disheveled, and she was in a deep sleep.

He didn’t know how long he watched her, but eventually Ethan felt a bit thirsty and went into the bathroom to shower.

When he came back out, refreshed in his pajamas, Florence had changed positions, rolled to the middle of the bed, with a leg kicked out from under the blanket and an arm crooked over her head as she slept.

The first button of her pajamas was undone, revealing the fair skin of her chest extending down from her collarbone.

Ethan pulled the blanket up to cover her properly, turned off the bedside lamp, then climbed onto the bed, looking at the sleeping Florence through the blanket.

Involuntarily, he gently edged closer to her.

His gaze fell from her cheek to her neck, and he moved in, placing a warm kiss on her neck.

Florence seemed to feel the warmth in her sleep, shifted slightly, turned her head, but remained asleep.

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, recalling their spontaneous first kiss, their lips softly pressed together, sharing each other’s breath in intimacy.

That day he restrained himself, not venturing further.

But now...

He felt the soft touch of her lips again and took Florence’s lips between his own, sucking and nibbling. As Florence gasped for air, she let out a soft moan and parted her lips, allowing Ethan to deepen the kiss.

In this state, Florence allowed him to take his fill. The more he kissed, the bolder and more rampant he became. He hadn’t had a drop to drink, and he knew he was sober, but in Florence’s presence, it was either choosing not to touch or being completely unable to stop once he did.

His kisses continued downward until reaching Florence’s collarbone. Suddenly, he sat up abruptly and hurriedly rushed into the bathroom.

He couldn’t do this — take advantage of someone.

This was not right.

With Florence, it should be something they both choose when fully awake, reaching ecstasy together.

After taking a shower, Ethan didn’t dare to cast another glance at the person on the bed. He took his laptop and went to the balcony outside.

——

Florence woke up to the morning light, stretched and then gradually realized something was off about where she was sleeping.

This was Ethan’s room.

Huh?

She was the only one on the bed.

She sat up, spotting the figure on the sofa ahead.

Wearing pajamas, with a laptop on his lap, his handsome face showed weariness as he seemed to notice her and looked over.

"Awake," his voice carried a hint of exhaustion.

Florence got out of bed, realizing she had also changed into pajamas, but she didn’t think Ethan had done it: "How did I end up in your room?"

"You got drunk." Ethan placed the laptop on the table in front of him: "I carried you back here, my mom changed your clothes. How’s your head, does it hurt?"

Florence shook her head.

She felt she had slept comfortably, and, after a moment of scrutiny, she asked Ethan: "Did I take your bed so you didn’t sleep all night?"

Ethan looked at her, his dark eyes filled with a deep and inscrutable meaning: "If I had really slept up there, you’d have a hard time getting off now."

Florence: "...!"

A blush crept up her face, she bit her lip: "Have you stayed up so late that you’ve gone silly? Hurry and get some sleep, I’m heading out."

She dashed away swiftly.

Watching her departing figure, Ethan chuckled to himself, got up, and lay down on the bed.

The blanket still retained Florence’s warmth; he lay where she had slept, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

Florence went to her room to freshen up before heading downstairs.

Abigail Monrose had just come downstairs and noticed her when Florence arrived.

"Aunt Monrose."

Florence dashed over and linked arms with her.

"Feeling better after sleep? Any headaches or discomfort?"

Not at all.

Florence seemed well, so Abigail, looking at her slightly swollen lips, asked: "Where’s Ethan?"

"I occupied his bed, he was on the sofa all night, he’s probably catching up on sleep now," Florence replied.

Seeing Florence’s condition, Abigail knew nothing significant happened last night, and even if it did, Ethan likely wouldn’t have crossed any boundaries.

"Let’s go and have breakfast."

Since there were no classes these days, Florence nibbled on a shrimp dumpling: "Aunt Monrose, shall we go shopping later?"

"Sure."

"I had given some of the money I saved to Ethan to invest in stocks for me, and he did great. I earned a lot, so today I’m paying. Let me treat you to something nice, okay?"

Abigail was pleasantly surprised but insisted: "Aunt Monrose doesn’t need these things. Keep your money for yourself."

"How could I just spend it on myself," Florence said with determination, "even if I can’t afford gifts as expensive as what you give me, within my means, I can still buy things for you. Let’s take our time and pick out something nice later."

Abigail, deeply touched, no longer hesitated: "Alright. You’re such a considerate girl."

Florence raised her eyebrows: "When I earn big money in the future, I’ll buy you even better things."

These were words even her own son had never said. Abigail looked at Florence and nodded earnestly: "Auntie will be waiting."

After finishing breakfast, they got ready and went out, returning to the Monrose family home around three in the afternoon, laden with purchases.

The bags were so many they couldn’t carry them all, prompting Sister Dawson and the maids to come out and help.

"Madam, you’re in such a good mood to buy so many things today," Sister Dawson commented.

"Florence bought them for me," Abigail said joyfully, "that girl is so thoughtful."

Sister Dawson added, "Miss Fuller knows you care for her, she surely sees you as a mother figure."

Abigail could hardly contain her happiness, imagining someday Ethan would marry this girl, truly making them a family.

Florence followed behind, walking last with her bags, almost filling up the sofa, and helped Abigail organize them.

When they were mostly sorted, Abigail patted Florence: "It’s almost four, Ethan should be up soon. Go and see him, and give him the new watch you bought."

The last time Ethan’s watch got damaged, Florence had chosen the replacement with Abigail’s opinion in mind.

"Okay."

Florence grabbed the watch and went upstairs.

At Ethan’s room door, she knocked first, and hearing no response, she pushed the door open.

The man on the bed seemed still asleep. Florence walked over, calling softly a couple of times: "Ethan Harper, Ethan Harper."

The handsome man, comfortably asleep, didn’t stir.

Florence sat by the bed, reached out to touch his sleeping face, and then spotted his hand outside the blanket. She pondered whether to put the watch on him, imagining he’d be happy to find it when he woke up.

Just as she touched his hand, planning to roll up his sleeve to attach the watch, he suddenly grasped her hand tightly.