Wei Anning rolled up the car window; it was nearly midnight and unbearably cold outside. Leaning back in her seat, she lazily asked, "What do you want to hear?"
Leaning against the elevator's metal wall, Leng Youchen's deep and husky voice stirred something inside, "Anything really, maybe sing a song. I just want to hear your voice."
Wei Anning's lips curved up, "I'm tone-deaf, you know. I can't sing."
"Then just call out to me like you did in the restroom earlier," Leng Youchen teased playfully.
"..." Wei Anning flushed, feeling like he had no bounds. "Leng Youchen, are you coming down or not? The flowers have wilted waiting for you."
Just as she finished speaking, a dark shadow appeared at her window. She quickly turned her head and saw the person she longed for. Delighted, she hung up the phone, pushed open the car door, and stepped out, "Where did you come from? I didn't see you."
Leng Youchen reached out and pulled her into his arms, "Come on, let's go home."
