After a kiss, Xia Siyu had already melted into a puddle of rouge. She exuded the fragrance of rouge, as soft and creamy as rouge, and even her color was a flushed red. Bo Yan lifted his head slightly, not daring to press down on her, afraid that getting too close would cause a reaction in him. He adjusted slightly, his voice still a bit husky: "Looks like we have to part ways again."
He didn't want to be apart; he wanted to be with her always. There was nothing more painful than having to part ways during a heated romance.
But they both had their own work, their own pursuits; he couldn't selfishly keep her tied down, and of course, Xia Siyu wouldn't agree or compromise. And a Xia Siyu who did compromise would no longer be the one he liked.
He understood all of this in his heart, but still, he felt a bit melancholy.
