The man's familiar deep voice fell from above her head.
Chu Yao didn't open her eyes immediately. Her forehead and face were covered with cold sweat. She waited for her breathing to even out before opening her eyes to a small slit.
"I want to put the phone on the nightstand."
"I'll do it."
Mo Tingshen took the phone from her hand, his gaze accidentally falling on the screen.
In such pain, she didn't think to throw the phone away. There were sweat-dampened fingerprints all over the dark screen.
Mo Tingshen was about to place the phone on the nightstand but then, after a second thought, he placed it under her pillow instead.
"I put it where you can reach it. Call me if you need anything, and I'll come over."
Chu Yao looked up at him, "Aren't you going to work today?"
Mo Tingshen: "On leave."
Chu Yao glanced at the left side of his chest, where his heart was.
