The room door was unlocked, leaving a slight crack open that allowed a sliver of sunlight to filter through. He gently reached out and opened it a bit more.
After the door was opened, his first glance fell upon the deserted big bed; instinctively, he looked towards the terrace.
The glass door to the terrace was open, and a slender figure was crouching in front of some flowers and plants, meticulously pruning the branches and leaves with a pair of scissors.
Jackson Sully didn't notice the sound from outside as he held a pair of small black scissors, carefully cutting away some yellowed and withered leaves and then repeatedly scrutinizing them in an effort to shape them more attractively.
Perhaps because his arm was raised for too long, the pain from the wound became somewhat pronounced, forcing him to gently lower his arm and pause for a moment.
