Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 591

If reason could make the choice, it wouldn't be a flutter of the heart.

So, he lost to the first person who made his heart race at eighteen.

His gaze level, Cyril rested his arms on the coffee table, tilting his head to study Vivienne's sleeping face.

She was quite cute when she was asleep.

He smiled, reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair resting on the tip of her nose.

Feeling a tickle, Vivienne rubbed her face and rolled off the coffee table.

Before Cyril could react, she tumbled onto the carpet. Whether she was too exhausted or the rug was just that comfortable, Vivienne seemed completely unfazed by the fall, even stretching her legs out to adjust her sleeping position.

The space between the coffee table and the sofa wasn't wide, and with the two of them squeezed in, Vivienne's stretching leg kicked right into Cyril's kneeling thigh.

"..."

Used to getting her way, she felt the obstruction and kicked harder. Her cute, rounded toes dug into his black silk trousers, squishing against his leg, while a long stretch of her slender, pale ankle was left exposed.

Cyril straightened his posture. His fingertips brushed over the soft carpet to gently grip her ankle as he leaned forward, casting his shadow over her.

His gaze was darker than the night sky outside.

"Vivienne?"

The person beneath him remained fast asleep.

Cyril's eyes landed on her lips. How much strawberry juice had she drunk for them to be such a vibrant shade?

A thought crossed his mind, making his breathing hitch. He released her ankle and gently cupped her face.

He wanted to kiss her.

The thought sprouted like wild weeds in the spring, erupting into an uncontrollable wildfire.

Their mingling breaths clouded his judgment. Cyril lowered his head. But a split second before their lips could meet, he snapped out of his trance, practically scrambling up from the carpet as if fleeing a crime scene.

He touched his own lips, realizing that indulging this urge would only burn him in the end.

"I appreciate the hard work, Ms. Nash. Consider this overtime, and I'll compensate you accordingly," Cyril said politely, his expression completely normal.

"That's not what I meant. You misunderstand, Mr. Cyril." Realizing her reaction had been too intense, Moira quickly took off her coat to prepare for the heavy lifting.

Vivienne looked slim, but she had curves where it counted. Caught off guard by the weight, Moira stumbled, and the two of them nearly toppled over. Thankfully, Cyril was quick, grabbing Vivienne's hips to stabilize their center of gravity.

"Sorry about that, sir. You can let go now."

Moira caught her breath and hoisted Vivienne higher up her back.

Cyril stared at his own hands, suddenly realizing what he was doing. He pulled back as if scorched, turning away to pretend to organize some files.

"Take off her coat and tuck her in."

"Understood."

Moira carried Vivienne into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Just as she reached for the zipper of the jacket, Vivienne rolled over, hugging a pillow and facing the other way.

"Miss Lexton, let's get your jacket off before you sleep, alright?" Moira whispered, thinking Vivienne was waking up.