Living With a Temperamental Adonis: 99 Proclamations of Love

"Su Zhinian, go back to the bedroom and sleep."

Su Zhinian's movement to sort out the futon stopped suddenly. He turned his back to her, and the strength of the hand holding the futon increased a lot.

The room was extraordinarily quiet. He thought he had just had auditory hallucinations and kept bending for a while before recovering and flattening the bedding.

Although Song Qingchun didn't have any other thoughts in her heart, she simply wanted Su Zhinian to lie down on the bed and rest well, but when she finished speaking just now, her heartbeat began to accelerate violently.

She stared at his unresponsive back for a while, and then opened her mouth again, even though he turned his back to her, her face still turned hot and red with her words: "Su Zhinian, don't you on the sofa Go to sleep, go to sleep in the bedroom...you still have to drive during the day...the bed-the rest will be better..."

When Song Qingchun said at the end, she felt that her cheeks were burning like a fire, and her voice was getting smaller and smaller. She quietly glanced at Su Zhinian like a statue, a motionless figure, with a firm grip. Fist, then bit his lower lip, as if he had made up his mind, he closed his mouth directly, stepped forward, rolled up Su Zhinian’s freshly prepared bedding and pillow, and didn’t even look at him. He hurriedly passed him and walked into the bedroom.

Song Qingchun threw Su Zhinian's pillow and quilt on the other half of the bed-and quickly burrowed into her bed. She held the quilt and held her head tightly, then hid in the dark paint. In the quilt, he patted his burning cheek gently before daring to breathe.

After a while, Song Qingchun heard the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open, and she immediately held her breath.

Despite a layer of bedding, Song Qingnian could still feel Su Zhinian's eyes looking at herself. Her whole body buried in the quilt was stretched tightly, like a corpse, lying rigidly.

Su Zhinian stood at the door for a while before gently closing the door and entering the house. As he approached, Song Qingnian's body became more rigid, and she felt that the blood in her whole body seemed to coagulate.

In her ears, Su Zhinian's movements were sorting out the bedding, but within a minute, Song Qingchun felt as long as a century had passed, and then the whole bedroom became extremely silent and she was nervous. Both hands clenched the sheets under him. I didn't know how long it had passed. Suddenly the man reacted again. Song Qingchun didn't realize what he was talking about, and the bed next to him fell.

Song Qingchun couldn't help but shuddered, her closed eyelids, all instinctively, more closely.

The bedroom was completely quiet, and the quiet Song Qingchun could hear Su Zhinian's shallow breathing and powerful heartbeat, the unique light fragrance on the man's body, never wrapped around the edge of the bedding, and burrowed into her from time to time. Breathing.

The fragrance smelled good, and there was a trace of tranquility in the coldness. Song Qingchun's tense emotions gradually relaxed, and her sleepiness and drowsiness gradually struck, and her breath became long and intermittent. Slowly.

Su Zhinian, who had been lying quietly on one side, slowly sat up and gently lifted the quilt over her head.