In the vacuum of the summer night where cicadas chirped, Shen Qinghe's fingertips were as cold as thin blades, swiping across the tight strings on the side of Sui Ran's neck.
The touch is ice and also a fuse.
Lin Xiao's back hit the cold wall, like a nailed specimen. Shen Qinghe's kiss fell. It was not a kiss, but a twisted vine, squeezing into her oxygen-deficient throat.
The heartbeat is a dying drum, beating the taboo shame and burning thirst.
Desire grows wildly in the rusty spring and blooms into eroded flowers.
"At that moment, my breathing was filled with dull pain." Lin Xiao whispered in his heart, as if he was drowning in the boundless deep sea. Reason screamed to let go, but instinct drove her to stretch out her trembling hand - knowing that it might just be illusory driftwood, a luxury hope destined to sink.
The moment when I didn't dare to look back, it was a poisonous wedge that nailed lust deep in my ribs.
Intention: On the boundary line of friendship and love, only by facing the inner coordinates can the course of the soul be calibrated.
