Tang Shu seemed a little tired, the day's overwhelming work causing her fatigue. The darkness of the cinema and Zhang Ziwen's robust shoulders inundated her with weariness. Her head tilted, slowly slipping down towards his chest, further and further…
She couldn't slide down anymore. Zhang Ziwen inwardly groaned. Her soft waist trapped his hand, preventing him from correcting her position, while her oncoming face threatened to collide with his if she kept sliding. He knew Tang Shu was dozing off and he didn't want to wake her up, but her face was almost touching his lower abdomen. God, it was so close. Her soft face was about to touch his arousal…
