Abigail Hemsworth widened her eyes in panic, until her body collided into a familiar chest, and her mind suddenly relaxed.
She fell into his arms, her legs in an awkward position.
She moved a bit, but her waist was tightly held by the man, lifting her body up and then back down, finally landing face forward.
Yet, the man did not release her, his long arms securely wrapped around her.
She struggled twice, and his grip tightened even more.
Finally, her hands rested on his body, and her tense body softened.
Her hair appeared slightly disheveled from the struggle, and a few shades of blush appeared on her lightly made-up face. They were so close to each other, the smell of alcohol lingered in the air, not knowing which of them it belonged to.
Or rather, whose scent of alcohol was stronger.
