Being His Little Fox

She got up too anxiously and accidentally knocked over the tea on the table.

Song Yi put it away in a hurry: "Sorry."

Wen Mu looked at her hand, flushed from being scalded, frowned, and Wen said, "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Song Yi: "No."

She said hurriedly, as if to leave.

"I'm talking about your hands."

She accepted her hand, not caring about the pain: "It's okay, I'll just wash it with cold water."

"Little idea, don't be frizzy." Mother Song frowned: "Go get some medicine and rub it, how old is it."

He scolded on the surface, but still felt distressed.

Mother Wen said at this time: "It's okay, young man, understand."

Song Yi didn't have the time to talk to them. After a few perfunctory words, she hurried away stepping on her high heels.

Following the direction where Tang Si had just disappeared.

...

corridor.

This side is relatively on the wrong side. Few people come here. The night wind is breezy. The summer is not cold, but it blows on Tang Si and only feels completely cold.

He put his elbow on the railing, bent slightly, and watched the neon flashing in the dark night outside.

He squinted his eyes and touched his pocket, only to find the empty cigarette case.

The man standing there was depressed and tired.

Lazily riding the railing, there is only one word written on his eyebrows, tired.

The breath of the whole body was so silent that people palpitated.

Tuantuan's majesty wrapped him to death. Here, on the third floor, the lake below is shimmering and wandering quietly.

The man stared silently, the waves of light shining on the bottom of his eyes, as if it were printing him in the lake.

Inside, it must be very comfortable, and the biting cold can face him directly.

Refreshing and exciting.

His whole body seemed to smell of lifelessness.

Between the hardships and the psychological contradictions, there seems to be a sound in a trance.

"Jump down, you will be very comfortable."

The burning anxiety and anxiety caused Tang Si to twist his eyebrows unconsciously, depressed in his heart, hidden in violence, silent, and repeatedly wanted to guide him to seek that touch of comfort.

Seek the cool comfort, the pleasure of suffocation and dying.

Song Yi ran over, panting, and saw such a scene, and saw him staring at the lake below.

Suddenly there were only four words in her mind: Dead water was slightly ill.

She shook her heart.

The tone was a little empty and trembling, almost shouting in a breath: "Tang Si."

With fear and uncertainty.

Especially light, called his name.

Such a small voice.

He heard it, all his senses were very sensitive.

The man suddenly turned his head and saw Song Yi standing at the corner not far from him.

She blushed, panting, as if tired.

Seeing Tang Si looking towards him, Song Yi breathed slowly: "What are you doing here?"

She walked closer, walked over and still held his arm, chin against his arm, raised her head, she smiled.

Bright and fragrant, his eyes are full of light, and his eyes are also full of him.

She took his hand, tightly, with her warm temperature, sweet, with warmth, with her tenderness.

It's like a fire, burning the dying soul.

"Didn't you tell me to wait for you...wait for you to kiss me."

"Why are you here?" She squinted her eyes and looked at Tang Si, with a charming and sweet tone: "Why don't you call me?"

Her voice is so soft and soft, but it is hot and hot.

Unceasingly.

Song Yi is always giving Tang Si endless hope, like a river with a long history.

The man moved slightly and pressed her into his arms: "Then Song Yi kid, are you waiting for me?"

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