Falling and falling and falling.
It never stopped.
The burn she felt for him grew more intense. The more it grew, the harder it was to contain the heat in the shell of her body. He would be the end of her, and she would love every minute of it.
Death by a love so deep for a man and their children that her human body couldn't contain it. In such times, she really hoped that she was the Goddess Mo Qingchen deemed her to be.
She smiled at the thought as she padded towards the bedroom. She went to the bed to strip off the sheets, anxious to get them washed and dried. As she pulled off the last corner, she heard Qingchen's footsteps coming down the hall. He appeared at the door a moment later, leaning against the doorjamb in a pair of boxers.
"What filling do you want, Qi—"
