Brian holstered his gun, applauding her with genuine admiration. "Impressive!"
Magdalen wrapped an arm around Estelle's shoulder, chuckling softly. "Ella never lets me down!"
Estelle chuckled in response. "You have a knack for picking something I excel at. If you'd asked me to join an embroidery contest, I would've just embarrassed myself alongside you!"
Magdalen's eyes sparkled with laughter.
Not far away, Morrison laughed. "Looks like Estelle knows the crowd. No showdown today, Magdalen must be disappointed!"
Jonathan had been keeping an eye on the shooting range. Seeing familiar faces involved, and noticing Brian's admiring gaze towards Estelle, he frowned.
He turned to Morrison. "Let's go check it out."
Knowing Jonathan couldn't stay put, Morrison smirked and stood up, heading towards the shooting range with him.
*
As the day turned to dusk, Sylvia woke up, still nestled in the man's arms, covered by his jacket.
The setting sun cast a rosy glow on the wooden table and the pages of an open book, highlighting the man's arm, propped against the table, flipping through pages with his distinct, strong fingers.
Sylvia gazed at him, not wanting to move.
The bookstore was nearly empty by then, the quiet murmurs from behind a couple of shelves only adding to the serene atmosphere.
Sylvia glanced at the blush-colored sunlight outside, feeling the lovely afternoon had passed too quickly.
"Awake?" the man's voice was soft.
Sylvia leaned against his shoulder, looking up at him. After a few seconds, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. She lifted her hand to drape his jacket over their heads, dimming the light around them.
Under his slightly surprised gaze, she kissed his chin, her eyes half-closed, seductive and enchanting, lazily kissing along his lips.
Sylvia took the bag and pulled out her book, borrowing a pen to give to Gabriel. "Sign this for me, please."
Gabriel's eyes darkened as he took the book and pen, sitting at a nearby table. He opened the book and wrote a line on the front page,
Sylvia
February 3rd, Blythe
His handwriting, taught by Old Mr. Jarvis, was striking and elegant, forceful enough to impress.
Sylvia, after adding his name beside hers, admired their combined script. Though not as perfect as his, her writing, honed under his tutelage, was graceful and penetrating.
Once done, she repacked the book, took his arm, and turned to bid farewell to the bookstore girl. "Goodbye!"
The girl waved back with a smile. "Goodbye!"
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