"Did you want a pre-dinner kiss, or are today's dishes not to your liking? Did I come back too late? Or what is it?" Qiuqiu looked straight at Mo Si, clearly knowing exactly what was going on.
Under the slightly yellow lighting, at the long dining table filled with steam and mouth-watering aromas, Qiuqiu even teased him, "What do I have to do for Brother Mo Si to forgive me and stop being mad?"
She pouted, her rosy, peach-colored lips taking on the appearance of a cherry. It was clearly a somewhat contrived gesture, but when she did it, it was exceptionally cute.
But the cutest thing wasn't this posture. It was that phrase—Brother Mo Si. The man didn't seem to change on the outside, but after those words circled his ears, they instantly ignited a boundless heat within him.
"I want a kiss."
Then, she embarked on a 'cross-country trek'—dodging the table like a little missile, she crashed into his embrace with a huff and a puff, and tilted her head up.
...
