Wang Shuo's Last Love. EP>4

EP>4

Zhao Lin didnt panic.

Zhao Lin.

( he stood slowly )

Walked around the table and bent down beside him.

For a secondm he just looked -- really looked at the man slumped before him.

The one with sharp cheekbones and eyes burned like hellfire earlier.

Now, he looked ...defenseless.

Zhao Lin.

Alright.

Zhao Lin.

( he muttered softly).

Zhao Lin.

Come on.

He pulled Wang shuo's arm around his shoulder and hoisted him up with ease as if he weighted nothing.

Some people looked, most didn't cared.

The kind of bar where stories ended or began -- or both.

Outside the night was biting cold.

Wang Shuo

( his weight leaned into zhao lin ).

Wang shuo was unconscious- his head resting against lin's chest, breath slow but shallow, lips slightly parted as through mid-sentence.

The alcohol had dragged him under like a heavy wave.

But even in that disheveled state-- shirt crumples, lashed wet with tears--.

Wang Shuo

( he looked painfully beautiful).

With careful hands, Zhao lin leaned in and gently placed wang shuo into passenger seat.

Zhao Lin.

( he adjusted the seatbelt, letting his fingers linger for a heartbeat too long near shuo's neck ).

Where a fading bruise peeked out from the collar.

Zhao Lin.

( he brushed aside a lock of shuo's hair from his forehead, something soft flickering in his gaze ).

Then he stepped around, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine.

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