"You're Acting Strange Tonight."

The man's tall and straight figure made it a bit challenging for Cynthia when she pushed against him. In the man's unwillingness, her strength seemed as feeble as a mantis trying to stop a chariot.

Tristan glanced at the reflection of Cynthia's struggling figure on the French windows, and a smile gradually appeared at the corner of his lips.

After finally pushing the man to the door, Cynthia took a long breath. As she turned to leave, the bathroom door suddenly swung open. The man reached out, pulling her directly into the bathroom. With a loud 'bang,' the bathroom door closed.

Cynthia's back was against the door, facing Tristan.

"What are you doing?" Cynthia's eyelashes trembled, feeling uneasy to meet his gaze. This was the bathroom, the most prone place for misunderstandings. Panic was inevitable.

"Help me take it off," Tristan held her hand, gradually moving towards his shirt collar.