Tweet his heart

Chapter 14 "Let me hold your hand"

—

Duan Zheng was slightly stunned, his eyelashes drooped, his thin lips parted slightly, each word passed by her ear softly and slowly:

"Chirp—"

"Then can I advance the opportunity to send you home this month?"

Fu Zhi sighed, "Then...let's talk about it."

He asked something else, and took this topic to the past.

When she arrived at Fu Zhi's studio, she took two coats and a computer, and then locked the studio.

When he raised his eyes, Duan Zheng was leaning against the side of the black Mercedes-Benz, looking at his mobile phone, and the soft light behind him outlined the outline of clear facial features.

His jaw line is smooth and neat, and even his protruding Adam's apple is very beautiful.

Under the cold white light on the phone screen, his knuckles were slender and thin, like porcelain coated with ivory white.

The matching of sweater and trousers added a bit of youthful look to his originally clear face.

The man is as gentle as light, just like before.

Fu Zhi walked over, Duan Zheng took what Fu Zhi was holding and opened the car door.

Duan Zheng put all the things she was carrying in the back seat neatly.

Just as he was about to close the door of the back seat, his eyes fell on a little rabbit doll. After thinking about it, he couldn't help but took it and gave it to Fu Zhi.

Fu Zhi blinked slowly, and looked at him, "I'm not a child anymore..."

Duan Zheng leaned over slightly and covered her small head with his big hand.

The distance between the two of them drew closer, and the man's breath rushed towards them, like the first snow in winter, clean and clear.

Fu Zhi's breathing was slightly stagnant, and her fair and clear face was slightly pink, like a freshly ripe peach.

"...You, what are you doing?"

Duan Zheng pressed her small head, and with the other hand, he pulled the seat belt and fastened it for her.

Suddenly, a wanton and lazy laughter fell into her ears.

"Chirp—"

"It's late at night, what do you think brother can do?"

His thin lips parted lightly, and he spoke at a leisurely pace, with a hint of ridicule.

Fu Zhi pursed her lips, pinched the little rabbit in her hand, and could not beat him, so she vented her anger on the little rabbit.

Duan Zheng fastened his seat belt, and then smoothed Fu Zhi's hair on his bangs before starting the car.

The road was unimpeded, and I don't know if it was her illusion that she even had less time to wait for the traffic lights.

Fu Zhi pinched the little rabbit for a while, feeling bored, and turned her head to look at the night.

At some point, her eyes fell on Duan Zheng.

When he was driving, he never put his ten fingers on the steering wheel in a regular manner, but sometimes used half of his palm to control the steering wheel.

The movements are simple and smooth, and there seems to be a sense of inexplicable provocativeness.

I don't know how to wait for the traffic lights on this road, and the time is getting more and more.

Just as Fu Zhi was about to look away, the man looked over.

Fu Zhi frowned, looked back, and reluctantly told him, "Boss Duan, drive hard."

Duan Zheng propped up his temple with one hand, pointed to the time of the traffic lights with the other, and said in a low voice, "Xiao Jiujiu, there are still [-] seconds left, I can't turn on."

His fingers were long and thin, and under the dim light, they looked cold.

The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up, revealing a small part of his arm, and there was a red string on his wrist, and there seemed to be some letters faintly under the red string.

"Want to hug?" Duan Zheng asked aloud when he noticed that her gaze had been on his wrist.

He slightly lowered his eyes to look at her, as if there was light in his dark pupils.

"Chirp—"

"Then let me hold your hand."

(End of this chapter)