Arielle leaned over to check on Vinson’s wound.
Some strands of her hair fell forward and brushed against his forehead. The touch was light, making him feel slightly itchy, and his heart skipped a beat. For some reason, Vinson’s mind was all over the place, and he swallowed hard again. However, Arielle continued sitting on top of him without noticing anything.
It was the type of torturous feeling only a man could understand.
Unable to bear it any longer, Vinson said in a low voice, “Arielle...”
Arielle was rolling Vinson’s sleeve up. As soon as she heard him call out her name, she looked up instinctively. However, it would have been better if she did not do so. When she did, the tip of her nose brushed against Vinson’s nose bridge.
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