The strong scent of alcohol mixed with the aura of male hormones hits her face, and Enna Clark braces a hand against his chest, furrowing her brows and struggling as she sternly rebukes, "Baron Lawrence, let go of !"
The man gripping her wrist, trapping her between the sofas, has blood-red eagle-like eyes and an exquisitely handso face even angrier than hers, gritting his teeth and letting out a low roar, "No!"
"Enna, don’t even think about letting go, dream on!"
Enna is stunned by his roar, her eardrums buzzing. After being montarily dazed, she regains her senses and is so angered that she laughs, "I know you’re not drunk, don’t act crazy here, let go!"
As she speaks, she reaches to pull at the hand pressing on her shoulder, her laughter filled with anger seeming particularly cold in the eyes of the man looking down on her.
Baron’s wrist is tugged at forcefully by her a few tis, but he doesn’t budge.
Enna pulls twice without succeeding, then tilts her head up and hears his breathing getting heavier with her actions.
Her movent freezes, reflexively letting go, softening from being angry and asking him nicely, "Baron, you’re hurting , can you let go?"
Enna waits for a long ti without him moving, and then twists her waist uncomfortably and shakes her head, saying, "Baron, let go first."
"I won’t!" Resolute and domineering, leaving no room for negotiation!
This ti Enna is really infuriated, her beautiful eyes glaring at him in anger, "Let go! If you don’t, I’ll scream!"
"Do as you please, I don’t mind being watched!"
Enna is taken aback, anger burning as she says viciously, "You won’t let go, right? Fine. Then keep holding on."
She turns her head aside and closes her eyes, showing an expression of refusal to communicate, as if she was indifferent to his madness.
Her fair face calm and unruffled, really acting as if he doesn’t exist.
Baron stares at her series of actions, noticing she doesn’t even bother to glance at him, his breath surging abruptly, his dark eagle-like eyes filled with furious unrest, the irritability nearly driving him insane. His heart tightens in bursts as if it’s about to die.
He desperately restrains his emotions, calling to the person trapped beneath him on the sofa, "Enna Clark."
"..." No response.
Damn it!
Suppressing the aching pressure on his heart, seemingly squeezing out from his throat, he calls again, "Enna Clark!"
"..."
"Enna Clark."
"..."
The answer to him is boundless silence.
Even though she’s right in his arms, Baron Lawrence feels as if this woman is far, far away from him, as if she could disappear from his embrace with just a blink.
His eyes are more bloodshot, the aloof coldness surging with unpleasant, volatile emotions; the hand pressing on Enna’s shoulder involuntarily tightens, clutching her shoulder tightly, "Enna Clark, open your eyes and look at ."
"..." Enna is equally furious, just thinking about how he was the one who made the mistake, yet he’s here hurting himself, acting crazy with alcohol, she doesn’t want to pay him any mind.
No one is as domineering as him, making a mistake and still seeming like he’s in unbearable distress.
She forces her lips together tightly, making herself pretend not to hear.
Baron’s voice is hoarse and low, each word seemingly jumping out from his throat, softly saying, "Enna Clark, look at !"
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