"...you...get up." The soft, feminine voice filled Zhang Ziwen's ears, breaking the silence.
"...I'm sorry." Zhang Ziwen became aware of his weight on her, awkwardly rising from her inviting body, reluctantly parting from her. Her chest rose and fell slightly, her casual lounge wear all crumpled.
"...Help me up." In Wu Min's enchanting eyes, she reached out with her fair, delicate hand. Zhang Ziwen caught sight of the purple mark on her wrist — proof of his actions.
A hint of regretful heartache filled Zhang Ziwen's eyes. He extended his hand to gently hold her soft hand, his other arm gently wrapping around her waist and setting her tender body onto the couch.
