The lounge, Shang Yu turned sideways to take a seat, with a dark and gloomy light filling his pitch-black eyes.
He remained silent, simply watching Li Qiao.
The atmosphere became oppressive and heavy; the man slowly closed his eyes, as if settling his emotions.
Li Qiao leaned against the sofa, opened her phone, and saw numerous missed calls and messages.
She sighed wistfully, glanced at Shang Yu's profile, and spoke lightly, "I was a bit sleepy just now, so I fell asleep."
This wasn't a perfect explanation, considering her phone was never out of her sight.
Unable to find her, he must have been anxious and angry again.
Inwardly, Li Qiao felt helpless and slightly weary, both for him and herself.
Shang Yu was too sensitive, and a typical characteristic of insecurity was overthinking and pessimism.
He habitually generated negative emotions, which wasn't his fault.
But each time it was like this, she couldn't help but feel a bit exhausted.
