The room was dark, with the curtains drawn, pitch black.
Her feet against the floor, a chill seeping through, ice cold.
Nora Scott proactively wrapped her arms around Pedro Langley's waist, stepping onto his shoes, entrusting her whole weight to him. She laughed, "Are all businessmen so smooth nowadays?"
"I don't talk like them."
Pedro Langley gently huffed, a bit petulantly.
Then, he added, "I'm speaking the truth."
Nora said nothing, burying her face in his shoulder, pinching his waist.
"Not wearing shoes?"
Through his shoes, Pedro Langley could still feel it—soft and gentle upon the arch of his foot, transmitting a faint warmth.
"Mm."
Just as Nora's word fell.
Pedro Langley bent over, suddenly sweeping her off the ground by the waist.
Nora was startled, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
"With your body like it is now, you still want to run around barefoot?"
