However, an ordinary pickle jar, washed and filled with water, inserted a large bouquet of flowers, put it on the window sill, facing the morning breeze, but also exudes a different beauty.
“Not bad.” Evelyn is very satisfied. Later, when cooking every day, he can also enjoy the flowers, which is very pleasant.
Grayson leaned on the side of the pot, watching Evelyn with a happy eyebrow, a strange feeling in his heart, unconsciously, moving on the line, falling on top of her head.
Visually, he is about half now taller than her.
“What do you see?” Evelyn noticed his gaze and glanced at him curiously.
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