Song Meiling opened her eyes groggily in the morning. Her unruly chestnut hair sprawled on the pillow. She clutched at the single bedsheet that covered her body, exposing her bare shoulders and collarbones.
She looked over at her side, watching Zhang Enyu breathe softly, with his body lying flatly on the bed. The same bedsheet she clutched on, covered only the bottom half of his body. She could see the hard muscles of his back, covered in red marks, the ones she created the night before.
Some nights, she'd sneak into his room, or he'd sneak into hers whenever they were feeling passionate, desperate to find release.
