Ya Tianxing turned his head slightly, getting extremely close to Mo Shangjun.
Mo Shangjun always forgets to cut her hair; the ends had grown down to her nape. When she lowered her head, her hair fell and just brushed against his nose, tickling it.
Ya Tianxing saw the slightly smiling expression on Mo Shangjun's face, playful, teasing, full of life — a state she only displayed when she was extremely relaxed.
From his vantage, he could see her lips well, rosy, with the corners slightly curled—they carried a subtle hint of temptation.
The pressure on their shoulders, separated only by a thin layer of fabric, allowed the warmth of Mo Shangjun's palm to be transmitted without reservation.
"Mo Shangjun." His eyes flickered slightly, Ya Tianxing suddenly called her.
"Hmm?"
Raising her eyes, Ya Tianxing looked directly into hers, and slowly said, "The only one who can be this close to me in life is my girlfriend."
"..."
Mo Shangjun immediately let him go.
