"Who’s looking at you?" Qiao Mo’s cheeks flushed, a bit angry out of embarrassnt.
He lightly curved his lips: "You tell ."
Qiao Mo dared not et his gaze, only feeling that his eyes were like two jars of honey, inexplicably capable of suffocating her.
"You... your leg hasn’t healed yet, why are you moving around?" Qiao Mo couldn’t help but feel worried.
After all, even with crutches and a wheelchair, he still hadn’t been put in a cast.
"Afraid you’ll forget what I look like again." He spoke softly, with a hint of sadness in his eyes.
Seemingly affected by him, Qiao Mo stared at him in a daze.
She carefully observed his brows, eyes, nose, mouth...
As ti passed, she seed to have beco especially familiar with him. Now, as she looked at him seriously, it seed as if she was etching him into her mind bit by bit.
Did she really forget him once?
The two of them stared at each other silently, and he didn’t urge her.
Until over ten minutes later, he softly asked: "Have you rembered?"
"Uh-huh." Qiao Mo responded instinctively.
He curved his lips in satisfaction: "Good that you rember."
Only then did Qiao Mo co back to her senses. Her face turned even redder, and she quickly lowered her head, stubbornly saying: "Who wants to rember what you look like, narcissist."
He leaned in closer to her again, and Qiao Mo was already curled up in the corner of the sofa.
At this mont, she felt as if his presence enveloped her from all sides, making it impossible to hide, causing her heart to race.
"What... what are you doing?"
He said softly: "Thinking of a way to make sure you rember."
"Uh... have you thought of one?" Qiao Mo looked at him with wide eyes, a hint of curiosity in them.
"Uh-huh, I have."
"What is it?"
He gently pecked her cheek, his tongue lightly kissed her glistening earlobe, and said in a low voice: "Then rember who was the first to take you."
Qiao Mo beca increasingly flustered, involuntarily recalling the scene in the hotel back then.
She rembered that piercing pain... rembered the marks he left on her body...
With a trace of unease, she reached out her hand, fleshy fingers pushing against his face, both her hands pushing his handso face far away: "You... you stay away from ."
Fu Nancheng sat up straight, raised an eyebrow, and said blandly: "The best way is to sleep with you every day, so the first person you see when you open your eyes is ."
Qiao Mo, her face flushed, pushed him away, glaring at him angrily, only feeling that he was becoming more and more shaless.
Fu Nancheng looked innocent, but there was a hint of provocation in his eyes instead.
Qiao Mo huffed lightly and ignored him, clutching her journal as she turned around on the sofa, facing away from him.
The corners of his lips slightly lifted, his eyes full of indulgence.
He didn’t tease her further, only recalling that text ssage from before, his gaze sinking again.
The night steadily grew deeper.
Fu Nancheng sat at the desk starting to work, while Qiao Mo remained lost in her thoughts on the sofa, holding a pen and frequently spacing out.
Until it was close to eleven o’clock, she glanced at the man still busy, and couldn’t help but speak: "Get so rest early."
"Uh-huh." He responded softly, closing the computer.
Qiao Mo helped him onto the bed, but who would have thought.
As soon as he settled, he grabbed her arm, pulling her onto him.
She imdiately bumped into his firm chest, even through the fabric she could feel his warmth, and Qiao Mo was afraid of pressing on his leg, quickly trying to get up.
But he firmly held her tight, unwilling to let go.
"Fu Nancheng, you still have an injury on your leg..."
"Uh-huh, then be careful."
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