Steam curled up the frosted glass, condensing into dense, maze-like trails of moisture.
A slender hand pressed against it and slowly clasped together before swiftly withdrawing.
Suddenly, the woman's snow-white back pressed against it, emitting a muffled thud.
The bathroom was filled with charm.
An Yan's eyelashes trembled lightly, and the crystal droplets on them shattered with ease; she wrapped her arms around the man's neck, gazing at the perfect silhouette outlined by the faint light on the ceiling.
The man's high nose bridge, his thin lips, and those peach blossom eyes—so close to her, they presented a shockingly vivid image that chiseled itself into her heart.
Fu Shiyan's smile hinted at the corners of his mouth, kindling a blush on An Yan's face.
"What are you thinking about?"
An Yan parted her red lips lightly, "I'm thinking about why you are so good-looking?"
"It's to bewitch you. But to think of something else at this time? It seems I haven't served you well!"