His eyes went wide. "Why are you crying?" His voice came muffled through the block of her palms.
"I am not crying," Jia said while wiping her eyes with her sleeves.
"Then what are you doing with your sleeve?" His brow twitched.
"I just had an itch. That's not important. Forget about it."
"No, it is important. The only place I am allowing you to shed tears is in bed. Cries of pleasure and ecstasy," he placed his palm over the back of her hand, squeezing its warmth. "Any other kind of tears are prohibited."
"So you say, but who's bringing these stinky tears then? If I hear you blame yourself again, I will break up with you."
"That's not how a supportive girlfriend should be," he blinked all too cutely, making her frown.
She released her hold over his lips and clasped his hand in hers. Other than tightly holding onto it, she felt helpless.
"...How often do you think about her?"
