It's hard to tell day from night.
Inside the room, sweat falls in damp droplets.
Clothing stripped bare, breaths grow heavy.
Xu Yang had lost track of time; with every snap, he followed through.
After six sequences of artistic shots, the room was filled with large photographs of Farosa taken by Xu Yang.
Xu Yang felt as though he were being watched by countless versions of Farosa, each one distinct yet sharing the same sinister gaze.
The entire room was suffused with a thick, almost unbreathable atmosphere.
He could barely make out the real Farosa.
Xu Yang glanced around and finally saw her collapsed on the ground, crouched like a wounded beast.
"Are you okay?" Xu Yang pulled her up.
Farosa was groggy, still savoring the sensation of a volcanic eruption.
Xu Yang... He was terrifying.
He was like the swirling corona on the sun's surface, searing enough to turn her to ash.
She couldn't resist; every thought of defiance rapidly transformed into an even stronger yearning.
