Contract Marriage: Let's Make It Real, Mrs. Sterling!-Chapter 214: Do You Sleep Well?

Mia Sutton knelt on the bed, placing her long body pillow in the middle. The bed was large, and even with a huge stuffed toy on it, two people wouldn’t feel crowded while asleep.

After arranging everything, Mia straightened up, clapped her hands, and said, "Alright, now we each have half."

Jensen Sterling glanced at the toy placed in the middle of the bed without saying a word.

...

The lights were already off, leaving only a bedside lamp. The lighting was slightly dim. The two lay quietly on the bed, each on one side, with a clear boundary marked by the big plush toy in the middle.

The room was incredibly quiet; it was so quiet that they could hear each other’s breathing. After an unknown period, Mia moved slightly, her head slowly shifting with tiny, careful movements, as if afraid of disturbing the person beside her.

Finally, Mia turned her head, peering past the toy to glance at the person sleeping next to her.

Jensen Sterling had his eyes closed, and typically when you can’t see, your hearing becomes more acute; he was acutely aware of every little movement from the person beside him.

Mia propped her elbow on the bed and rose slightly, timidly extending her head as she softly asked, "Mr. Jensen...? Mr. Jensen, are you asleep?"

Receiving no response for a few seconds, Mia murmured to herself, "Asleep? That fast?"

Suddenly, a husky voice broke the silence, "I’m not asleep, what’s up?" Jensen asked without opening his eyes, still lying quietly.

The sudden voice startled Mia, causing her slightly elevated elbow to instinctively fall back down.

Mia: "..." Emmmm, not asleep, scared the life out of me.

Then Jensen slowly opened his eyes, raised himself slightly, leaned against the headboard, and looked at her with deep eyes, "What’s wrong, can’t sleep?"

Mia: "...Just a little." Lying on her side, her voice was slightly muffled, sounding soft and gentle.

The tips of Jensen’s fingers hanging at his side moved slightly, brushing a few times, then he heard the girl ask, "Mr. Jensen, do you sleep well?"

It seemed she wasn’t waiting for his response, as she continued speaking to herself, "Actually, I sleep pretty well, so Mr. Jensen, you don’t have to worry about me kicking you."

In the dimness, Jensen’s eyes deepened a little as he responded with a soft "Hmm."

Then he listened as the girl beside him mumbled a bit more, her voice gradually lowering until it ceased.

Mia lay on her side asleep, one hand holding the stuffed toy she had placed in the middle of the bed, her eyes completely closed, then she sleepily murmured, "Mr. Jensen... good night."

After speaking, there was silence for a while. Jensen turned his head, his gaze lingering on the girl who had already fallen asleep, her face tranquil and obedient, lying there giving the impression of being petite, her bedding slowly rising and falling with her breaths, the amplitude very small.

Unknown how much time passed, Jensen slowly withdrew his gaze, then reached out to turn off the bedside lamp and lay down.

In truth, it wasn’t just Mia who couldn’t sleep; he couldn’t either. For years, he had been by himself; there had never been anyone else next to him. Now suddenly there was an additional presence beside him, and the feeling was strange.

With someone sleeping next to you, the distance between you is merely an arm’s length. Once quiet, you can even hear each other’s breathing.

Yet it also feels quite good—the kind of feeling that you’re no longer alone—making one quite reluctant to part with it. Jensen’s brow furrowed slightly; this feeling wasn’t new. Inside, there was a sour and swelling sensation, somewhat uncomfortable yet not unpleasant, with a thought vaguely surfacing within his mind, seemingly about to emerge.

In the darkness, his eyes open, making them appear even more profound, lost in thought.

After an unknown duration, Jensen slowly closed his eyes, the drowsiness overtaking him little by little. Just as he was about to fall asleep, suddenly, a pair of hands landed on his arm.

Jensen’s eyes shot open.

The other person’s blanket was half crushed beneath her, and the large plush toy originally in the middle had somehow been pushed off the bed.

Summer was not yet over; the weather remained hot, but with the air conditioning on, the room was rather cool. However, Mia had entirely abandoned her own blanket, with the uncrushed half pitifully hanging over the edge of the bed.

Jensen was also dressed in a thin short-sleeve t-shirt; the heat from the girl’s arm laying on his slowly seeped into his skin.

Mia seemed to find the position uncomfortable for sleeping, then turned over into a side sleeping position, unconsciously inching towards Jensen, her hair already a bit tousled from all her moving.

Her head rested against Jensen’s shoulder, both arms embracing his arm, nestling her head a couple of times before settling into stillness.

Jensen hadn’t yet reacted before she had latched onto him, making his body momentarily stiffen.

The girl’s hair softly brushed against his skin, her warm breath gently puffing onto him, evoking a ticklish sensation all over.

Her freshly washed hair carried the scent of shampoo—familiar—it only took a sniff to recognize it was his own shampoo.

Mia was using his shampoo; the thought surfaced in Jensen’s mind.

It was as if the girl beside him had absorbed his scent, melding it with hers, even making it feel like she completely belonged to him.

Jensen’s breathing paused momentarily, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tightly closed his eyes, only opening them after an unknown length of time, wanting to reach out and remove Mia’s hands from his arm.

But as soon as he raised his arm, the girl immediately pouted, squeezing a bit tighter, determined not to let go.

Jensen’s voice was already a bit raspy, "Mia."

After he spoke, the girl who had just claimed to be a sound sleeper frowned, discontent muttering, "Fluffy, why did you move, don’t move, let me hold you for a bit."

With that, she even inched closer, her long, fair leg wrapping around him like an octopus, clinging onto the person beside her.

Her movement caused her clothing’s hem to slightly ride up, revealing a slender waist, appearing so delicate as if a light grip could snap it.

White enough to be glaring, yet making one wonder how tempting it would be to stain that fairness with another color.