Sheng Qianxia snapped back to reality from the images of the past.
She felt the warmth from his palm on her abdomen and couldn't help feeling that the current Gong Beiyao overlapped slightly with that boy from before.
Today, they were no longer the teenagers they had been, their relationship wasn't as innocent either, but the shy fondness she felt when facing him seemed not to have faded with the passage of time.
Both were silent, neither speaking, yet the atmosphere didn't seem as awkward as before; even the air had, at some point, become warmer.
He lay down beside her without any sense of incongruity after who knows how long.
The spacious sofa could easily fit two people, but she was too susceptible to such an ambiguous closeness.
Sheng Qianxia's heart was still pounding as she sneaked a glance at him.
He seemed nonchalant, repeating the same movements, gently and slowly kneading her abdomen.
