Little Jasmine had always been full of energy, running, climbing, and crying for attention. But today, exhaustion got the better of her. After a long morning of fussing and playing, she finally gave in to sleep—but in the funniest and most pitiful way.
Instead of curling up in a soft corner or nestling into her blanket, Jasmine had rolled backward onto the floor. Her tiny body lay awkwardly across the tiles, her little legs bent and her arms stretched out. Her breathing was soft but uneven, and every so often, her lips moved as if she was mumbling in a dream.
She looked so small lying there, her back pressed against the cool ground, her tail twitching every now and then. But even in her sleep, Jasmine’s heart longed for comfort. Between breaths, she let out a faint whimper, her tiny fingers curling as though she were reaching for someone.
That someone was Jueur. Jasmine had grown used to Jueur’s presence, his hands that carried her, his warmth that made her feel safe. Even in sleep, her little mind seemed to know she didn’t want to be left alone. It was as if her backward sprawl on the floor was her silent cry: “Come and pick me up.”
When Jueur finally noticed, his heart melted. He bent down and scooped Jasmine gently into his arms. She stirred but did not wake, instead nestling closer into his chest, her cries fading into deep, calm breaths. Wrapped in safety once more, Jasmine found the peaceful rest she had been longing for.
