After sending it out, I didn't get a response for a long time. Le Zhishi put on pajamas and found that he had grown a lot and was stepped on when walking.

Song Yu was not here, so he decided to draw secretly on his bed. Anyway, he wouldn't know about this cleanliness. Le Zhishi took out the photo book and the pencil from his bag, got into Song Yu's quilt, and drifted down to draw.

He ticked some lines of his clothes, but there was no good inspiration, so he started stumble. After touching, he opened the old picture album and looked at it one by one, and it was full of Song Yu. He had never calculated it carefully in the past, but now he saw that he really drew a lot of Song Yu's hands, hands holding pen, hands when riding a bicycle, and hands he was sleeping on the desk, under his overlapping arms, hanging casually beside the table.

Le Zhishi found that he really looked like a puppy. If Song Yu really stretched out his hand at him, his first reaction might be to put his own obediently.

The second reaction was probably to lick his palm.

Afterwards, he realized that he had been breathing a little too much, so he just lay in the quilt, but his face was buried on the painting, his dry lips rubbing unconsciously with the cold painting paper.

The quilt was like a sponge soaked to the point of swelling, soaked in Song Yu's smell, a familiar smell on the skin, and an unknown hormone. Le Zhishi was lying in his pajamas, as if he was pressed from behind by Song Yu and wrapped up.

His respiratory tract seemed to be clenched by an invisible hand, and the oxygen that could have flowed in normally became extremely difficult. Song Yu's face became clearer and his breathing became heavier.

His body's reaction was not affected by him.

But Le Zhishi was sure that he was not a pathological excessive breathing at this moment, but just because of missing Song Yu. Perhaps both, and missing him could not control his emotions or breath.

Song Yu was like a robot with a delayed reaction. When Lezhishi was no longer convenient to reach out to confirm the news, he sent a response to the photo of the knee-bumping.

[Brother: How did you do it?]

[Brother: Did you take this kind of photo on purpose?]

Le Zhishi gasped, stretched out his hand out of the quilt and opened it to look at it, and then gave up and did not reply. He didn't understand what kind of "this kind of photo" is.

In just two or three seconds, Song Yu called over, and Le Zhishi never refused, even though he knew that it was not suitable for him at this moment.

As soon as it was connected, Song Yu on the other end of the phone repeatedly asked the question just now in a relatively calm tone, but Le Zhishi found that his breathing was too loud and too fast, almost covering Song Yu's voice.

The quilt was very hot. He tried to restrain himself a little and buried his head on the pillow where Song Yu had slept, but it backfired, and his forehead was covered with sticky sweat. Le Zhishi's throat made a sound of breathing, like the whimpering and panting of a small animal when he was sick.

At first, Song Yu thought something had happened, but the sound was different from the disease he was familiar with.

His tone also changed subtly, very low, conveying a strong sense of control through space and radio waves.

"What are you doing?"
Chapter completed!