Cold words to the extreme.
They spilled from her red lips, tinged with a merciless detachment and a faint disgust.
Mu Jingxi's hand stiffened for a moment before he drew it back.
His voice was hoarse, accompanied by self-deprecating laughter, "I thought you were asleep."
Qiao An was in a bad mood and hadn't fallen asleep yet when his "stinking" hand reached over. How could she not be angry?
With a cold snort, Qiao An pulled up the quilt, covering her head.
Mu Jingxi sighed, "Qiaoqiao, you've been acting strange lately. Did I do something wrong?"
He seemed distressed, not understanding what he had done to upset her and provoke her disgust.
Qiao An bit her lip; she wouldn't tell him.
"You don't want to see me now, do you?"
"..."
"Speak."
"..."
"If you don't speak, I'll take it as a denial."
Qiao An, with a huff, flung off the quilt in protest, "Not speaking is consent, how can it be denial!"