'I love you.'
The words echoed in the eerily silent air around the pair long after falling from Li Meirong's lips.
Zhu Qingyue's snarl shifted into a clear and rather puzzled frown, his hold on her gradually loosened.
Slowly, bit by bit, his grip eased away.
To Li Meirong, it felt like she was fighting a losing battle to remain awake and focused. After having confessed her feelings in such a way, however, she was determined to see his reaction no matter what. With that in mind, she continued her struggle against the numbing pain and light-headedness that hastened her towards unconsciousness.
Through heavily lidded eyes, she bore witness to Zhu Qingyue's humanity slowly resurfacing, his sense of reason not entirely quenched.
Li Meirong's grim expression softened. Her fingers, trembling from blood loss, traced slowly along his bloodied jaw, all the way down his long snout.
