A distance of merely a palm's width separated them.
His hands pinned her wrists down on either side of the pillow.
It was as if she were nailed to the bed, unable to move an inch.
His complexion was poor, his brows slightly furrowed, and his body seemed uncontrollably weak.
Wen Yu raised his hand to rub his brow, and when he lowered it, it appeared as though the arm holding him up had lost its strength, ready to collapse onto her at any moment.
And exactly what she feared came true.
As she tried to push him away, he suddenly groaned and fell onto her.
"Mmm..."
With his sudden weight on her chest, she struggled for breath.
However, that wasn't the worst part; the worst was that this guy wasn't wearing a shirt.
Their skin pressed together, his warm body against her face and body.
…
In the room, her phone lay on the entryway, ringing incessantly, flashing repeatedly.
But she was in the bedroom, hearing and seeing nothing.
