The phoenix eyes tinted a darker hue, their coldness betraying a trace of hidden depth. He could smell the ethereal fragrance emanating from her, and her lips were so close—temptingly close—like delicate petals begging to be tasted.
Zhaozhao met Chu Yan's gaze and couldn't help but falter for a moment.
The danger in his eyes resembled that of a wild beast fixating on its prey, inexplicably sending shivers down her spine, instinctively wanting to distance herself from him.
Zhaozhao let go of her arms, preparing to rise.
But Chu Yan promptly reached out and gripped her slender waist, his voice low and deep, "What are you doing?"
"I..." Zhaozhao bit her lip, "Why do you insist on sleeping on the couch? I'm not used to it anymore."
"Oh? And what are you used to?"
"..."
Her radiant cheeks flushed with a thin spread of red.
He chuckled lightly, then pressed her down onto the couch.
A warm breath caressed the side of her ear, "Zhaozhao, so you like this sort of thing."