This room, inhabited by Meng Xi'er alone for a few days, had begun to take on her unique scent, a faint lingering aroma pervading it.
From the outset, Lu Yebai did not intend to do anything.
He raised a hand and gently traced her face, his eyes slowly filling with a profound yearning, as intense and dark as thick ink.
The color drained slowly from Meng Xi'er's face. She wished to recoil, but Lu Yebai held her shoulders, raising an eyebrow at her, "Don't move."
His gaze held a commanding force, an air of supremacy that unconsciously revealed itself, instilled in him since childhood. Feeling it, Meng Xi'er stiffened, her body reacting before her mind had a chance to, registering fear.
She was afraid of him, this man she belatedly realized which she feared, in every facet of her being - physically, spiritually. This man, whom she once loved unendingly, she now loved to the point of torment.