In the car, Charles Seymour hadn't let go of Sophie Wilson's hand at all, their fingers interlocked as they sat there: "Are you going to take a break before starting the new script?"
"No." Sophie Wilson shook her head, "I'm not really interested in acting."
She smiled as she spoke, pinching Charles Seymour's fingers: "I seem to be genuinely interested in this script, other things..." Sophie Wilson paused and lamented, "It's too hard, I think I'm more suited to being a lazybones who doesn't work."
The driver in the front drove steadily, used to hearing this often by now.
If Miss Wilson wants to be a lazybones, it's fine as long as the gentleman is willing to support her.
As long as they're happy, it's all that matters.
After Sophie Wilson said this, she noticed Charles Seymour didn't reply, and her brows furrowed.
What does he mean?
Is he unwilling to support her?
"Say something!" Sophie Wilson pinched Charles Seymour's fingers again.
