Chapter 116 A Token Of Love?

• “Did you need to come in person to deliver the supplies? Didn’t you just need to give an order?” Actually, she hoped Byron would admit that he came for her. Although it didn’t mean their relationship would go somewhere, she still hoped he would admit it. But Byron was probably born against her. The more she looked forward to something, the more he made her upset.
• “Doing it myself is better than giving orders." Not only did he not give her the answer she wanted, but he was even better at exposing her thoughts. “Or do you think I’m here for you?” "I didn’t.” Although her inner voice had already admitted it to her, she didn’t dare to admit it, nor could she admit it. “That would be great.” Byron snuffed out the cigarette butt and said, “Get some rest. We’ll be busy tomorrow.” Cora silently put away the expectations she shouldn’t have. “You too.” She turned to leave, but in the end, she turned back and handed the sachet to Byron. “This is for you.” Byron didn’t like mosquitoes buzzing around him. When he spent the night in her apartment, he would have a restless sleep if there was a mosquito in the room. Not to mention mosquitoes; all kinds of insects might be in this kind of temporary tent. So Cora brought Byron her sachet.
• "What is it? A token of love?” Byron took the sachet and looked at it. His eyes lit up, but Cora didn’t know if he was teasing her or looking forward to something. “Don’t think too much. There are some mosquito-repellent herbs in it. You can put it next to the sleeping bag so that no mosquitoes will bother you.” After Byron heard the answer, the light in his eyes quickly dimmed. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” No matter what, he was the hero who had saved everyone here, and Cora felt this was what he should do for him. After she finished speaking, she turned and left. Byron watched her back, and he returned to the tent when he was sure she had entered her tent. At the same late hour, Jane, wearing a white suspender nightdress and standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, was on a phone call. “Miss Yoris.” “How is it going out there??” She asked.