Although separated by a thick down jacket, the warmth of He Xing's palm still penetrated through the clothing, branding her skin like a hot iron.
"Let go of me," Fu Han said with a blushed face, whispering as she pushed against the ground with both hands, trying to widen the distance between herself and He Xing as much as possible.
"What if I don't?" He Xing smiled, increasing the pressure of his grip, causing Fu Han's resistance to crumble. Forced to lie on top of him, her forehead came into intimate contact with He Xing's lips.
He Xing's lips were even hotter than his palms. Fu Han's heartbeat pounded like drums, relentless and unending, as her hands frantically scrambled, eager to get up.
Fu Han panicked. She didn't know where the strength came from, but she pushed He Xing away and stood up: "If you want to enjoy the snow, do it by yourself. I'm tired and going to sleep."
After that, she didn't linger and scurried away.
