"Pff..."
Sherly Fisher was suddenly thrown into the water, after gulping down a few mouthfuls of water, she wiped her face and sat up from the water, her hair sticking wetly to her cheeks, ready to explode. Her eyes mixed with water splashes seemed to catch sight of the man wearing nothing, and she immediately lowered her head, not daring to breathe heavily.
She really didn't know what to do...
Shake it off, she can't; get rid of it, she can't; fight it, she can't. Sherly Fisher had never felt so powerless as at this moment, she even wanted to cry.
But she had never been one to admit defeat, so she stubbornly forced back the tears that were about to burst out, gently pursed her lips, said nothing, stood up from the bathtub, threw away her coat, turned on the shower and stood under the shower head, no longer caring about Zachary Armstrong standing so brazenly in front of her.
