She glanced at the man's handsome face, her heart tightening slightly, a tingling pain accompanying it.
Walter Schmidt... Was he always this indifferent, even when resting?
Emily Stone felt heartache. Instinctively, she touched the back of his hand, found it slightly cold, turned around to turn up the central air conditioning, then turned off the main light, leaving only a few small lamps by the bed, before returning to the front of the large bed.
She pulled up the quilt to cover the man and then sat on the edge of the bed, continuing to massage his stomach through the thin cover.
The bedroom was very quiet, so quiet that Emily Stone could hear the beating of her own heart.
This was the first time she had stayed so close to him. By just looking up, she could see his face, and see it very clearly. The man's face, every inch of skin, was perfect, flawlessly so.
