The distance between them closed in an instant.
Their lips were mere millimeters apart.
Yuan Shimo didn't move any closer. He held the position, letting their hot breaths fall upon each other's lips.
The psychedelic electronic music seemed to fade away, replaced by the sound of a quickening drumbeat in her ears. She couldn't tell whose heartbeat it was.
Jiang Qingli wanted to pull away, but the moment their eyes met, she held her breath.
Backlit, the young man looked down at her with his eyes half-lidded. In the dim light, she couldn't make out the color of his pupils. His thick eyelashes blinked slowly. Though he hadn't touched her, Jiang Qingli felt a faint tickle.
It was like being brushed by a kitten's tail—a pleasant, tingling numbness.
It was also a kind of silent bewitchment.
'What... what does he mean by this?'
A strange nervousness bloomed inside Jiang Qingli.
