The doctor cleared his throat quietly, a hesitant observer to the storm of control and vulnerability in the room. Huo Ting Cheng shot him a look that could have frozen water, and the man wisely stepped back toward the doorway, pen forgotten in his trembling hands.
For a long, tense moment, the study was silent except for Tang Fei's uneven breaths, the faint shuffle of Huo Ting Cheng's pacing beside the couch, and the unspoken realization that in this fragile, intimate chaos, the predator had become prey to the one he vowed to protect.
Huo Ting Cheng's grip on Tang Fei loosened just enough for her to push herself upright, resting against his chest, her face still flushed, her breath shallow but steady. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a note of both fatigue and triumph.
"I… I want to be in our bedroom," she murmured, her head tilting to press briefly against his shoulder.
