The next day, after breakfast, Jasmine followed Clara Sinclair out the door. She yawned as she admired Clara’s back ahead of her.
Clara’s black motorcycle suit accentuated the clean lines of her shoulders, and even the ends of her hair radiated a cold, unapproachable aura. Her long legs gave her a powerful stride. ’She’s a total human wrench,’ Jasmine thought. ’She could turn even the straightest of girls if she wanted. Too bad this damned, puritanical system won’t let me seduce the female lead.’
Jasmine scurried forward and hooked her arm through Clara’s. When Clara turned to look, Jasmine flashed a perfectly sweet smile, her voice soft and sugary. "Sister, let’s go to school together."
Clara frowned slightly at the sight of Jasmine’s hand on her arm. Then her gaze shifted, drawn to a few strands of hair sticking up on top of Jasmine’s head. ’It’s actually kind of cute.’
Seeing that Clara hadn’t shaken her off, Jasmine pressed her advantage and started to drag Clara toward the Bentley parked by the entrance. But before they had taken two steps, Clara coldly flung her hand away.
Jasmine immediately switched into performance mode. She stared at the impassive Clara with wide, innocent eyes, a wounded look on her face. She pursed her lips, adopting a timid expression, as if she wanted to ask why but didn’t dare. She looked just like a puppy that, after being coldly pushed away by its owner, was left feeling hurt and dejected, wanting to cuddle again but too afraid to try.
"What are you looking at? Don’t think that look will make me get in the car with you. You, scram and get in the car. I’m taking my motorcycle to school."
Clara shot Jasmine a cold glare, then turned and walked toward the motorcycle she had parked in the corner.
’No matter how cute or pitiful she acts, it’s useless on me. I’m not falling for this whole cutesy, ’pity me’ routine,’ Clara thought. ’This little green tea is probably trying to drag me into the car to pull some kind of stunt.’
Her attempt to act pitiful having failed, Jasmine could only dejectedly get into the car by herself. Once inside, she pressed her face to the window, lips pursed, and watched with longing as Clara single-handedly grabbed her helmet, put it on, and swung a long leg over the motorcycle. Her black leather pants stretched taut over her slender legs. So cool, so badass. It was almost too much.
’If this damned system didn’t forbid a sapphic romance, I would totally go for a female lead this cool and handsome!’
’The green-tea little sister and the badass older sister... this fake-sibling CP has such a great dynamic.’
The black Bentley cruised through the morning light, its body seemingly plated in gold. Inside, Jasmine tilted her head, her gaze mesmerized as she traced the lines of Clara’s perfect side profile. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a golden halo on her aloof face, making even the fine, downy hairs on her skin visible.
’She really is gorgeous. That bitch Jessica Adler actually has some decent taste.’
"Was it fun?"
Clara’s icy voice cut through the silence in the car.
Jasmine blinked her innocent, almond-shaped eyes at Clara’s icy gaze, asking with a look of utter confusion, "What was fun? Sister, what are you talk—"
Before Jasmine could finish, Clara’s cold hand clamped around her throat, forcing her words back down.
"I’m asking you, was it fun dismantling my motorcycle engine?"
Clara’s voice was as cold and sharp as a blade of ice. Her fingers tightened abruptly, her gaze, filled with killing intent, fixed coldly on Jasmine.
’If she has a problem, she can come at me directly,’ Clara fumed. ’But to dare touch my baby... she’s courting death.’
An unhealthy flush spread across Jasmine’s cheeks from the lack of oxygen. She managed to squeeze a few raspy sounds from her throat. "Koff... Sister... I didn’t... It wasn’t me..."
’Getting choked again,’ Jasmine thought. ’I haven’t even been in this world for twenty-four hours, and my neck has already been grabbed twice. When did female leads pick up the male leads’ bad habit of choking people at the slightest provocation?’
Clara’s amber eyes were like chips of ice as she glared fiercely at Jasmine.
’Who else could it be but Jasmine?’ she thought. ’This is an exclusive gated community. A common thief couldn’t get in, and even if one did, they wouldn’t just steal a single motorcycle engine. Only a green tea like Jasmine would do something this petty just to spite me.’
Jasmine’s trembling hands grasped the wrist of the hand at her throat. A single, shimmering tear welled at the corner of her reddened eye, hesitating on the brink of falling. Her voice was ragged and broken. "Sister, I didn’t... It wasn’t me... I didn’t touch your engine... Koff... Koff... Sister, please let go... Jasmine can’t breathe."
As she spoke, the tear finally fell, landing on the web of Clara’s thumb and blooming into a warm patch on her skin. As if scalded, Clara abruptly released her grip.
The moment Clara let go, the floodgates opened. Tears streamed down Jasmine’s face, her voice pitiful and aggrieved. "Sister, I know you don’t like me. You think I stole Mom, Dad, and our brothers from you. That I’m living the life that should have been yours. You have every right to hate me... but I really didn’t touch your engine. Sister, please, you have to believe me."
Jasmine grasped Clara’s hands, her face a picture of tragic, heart-wrenching beauty as she cried.
Seeing Jasmine like this, Clara’s heart instantly softened. The coldness in her eyes faded. She pulled a tissue from the nearby dispenser and offered it to Jasmine. "Hey, don’t cry. I was just asking."
’Does this little green tea have springs for tear ducts? How can she cry on command like that?’
’She can turn on the waterworks in a second. It’s a waste of her talent that she’s not starring in some tearjerker drama.’
’Still, the little green tea is actually quite pretty when she cries. Tears slid down her porcelain cheeks, leaving tracks as clean as morning dew on a flower petal. The tip of her nose was flushed a delicate pink, and even her sobs sounded like a finely tuned instrument, each hitched breath landing on a note perfectly calibrated to soften the heart.’
’That tragic, rain-on-a-blossom fragility, that aggrieved look of holding something back... she was the textbook model for a beautiful cry.’
Jasmine didn’t take the tissue Clara offered. Instead, her tears fell even faster, and she snuck glances at Clara’s expression as she cried.
’Clara is already softening up,’ Jasmine thought. ’I have to strike while the iron’s hot. I need to cry until she feels even softer, even more guilty. As long as I cry hard enough, even a heart of steel will eventually melt.’
Seeing Jasmine still shedding tears, Clara was momentarily at a loss. ’Should I try to comfort her?’ she wondered. ’After all, she keeps calling me ’Sister’ so earnestly.’
’I did just accuse her so viciously without any proof, and I even grabbed her by the throat. I admit, I went too far.’
’But I’ve only ever beaten people up, never comforted them. How do you even do that?’
’Maybe I should pat her head?’
With that thought, Clara reached out. But just as her palm was about to touch the top of Jasmine’s head, she paused.
’Forget it. I won’t do it. We barely know each other. We only met yesterday, it’s not right to be patting her on the head already.’
Seeing that Clara was about to pull her hand back, Jasmine immediately leaned forward, gently nuzzling her head into Clara’s palm like a little kitten.
’As if!’ Jasmine thought. ’You already put your hand out, there’s no way I’m letting you take it back. If you won’t pet me, I’ll just come to you. I refuse to believe you can resist petting me now.’