"Who's looking at you?" Qiao Mo's cheeks flushed, a bit angry out of embarrassment.
He lightly curved his lips: "You tell me."
Qiao Mo dared not meet his gaze, only feeling that his eyes were like two jars of honey, inexplicably capable of suffocating her.
"You... your leg hasn't healed yet, why are you moving around?" Qiao Mo couldn't help but feel worried.
After all, even with crutches and a wheelchair, he still hadn't been put in a cast.
"Afraid you'll forget what I look like again." He spoke softly, with a hint of sadness in his eyes.
Seemingly affected by him, Qiao Mo stared at him in a daze.
She carefully observed his brows, eyes, nose, mouth...
As time passed, she seemed to have become especially familiar with him. Now, as she looked at him seriously, it seemed as if she was etching him into her mind bit by bit.
Did she really forget him once?
The two of them stared at each other silently, and he didn't urge her.
