"Baron Lawrence, what are you doing? Let go of me..." Enna Clark wriggled and struggled to try to get up.
"I won't let go!" His warm breath spilled over her neck, with absolutely no intention of releasing her.
In this ambiguous posture, Enna Clark felt incredibly uncomfortable and could only turn her head to try to avoid his tickling breath, helplessly asking, "Why not let go? What did I do to upset you?"
Baron Lawrence carefully avoided her belly, his knees pressing on either side of her, making it seem like he forcefully pinned her to the sofa, yet he skillfully avoided her belly so as not to hurt her.
His eyes, deep like a well, locked onto Enna Clark, as if wanting to see through her, "You tell me."
Enna Clark wished she could roll her eyes at him, huffed as she twisted her wrist to no avail, and resignedly sighed, letting him be, "How would I know? I'm not the one who's upset."
"You're not upset, so how do you know I'm upset?" This was simply an absurd argument.
