Chu Yi folded the soft petals of the gregarious rose with a white, almost translucent fingertip, treacherous eyes squinted with an excited and malicious glare. With lips pursed gently, he softly squeezed the root of the stamen for the final time before slender fingers flicked the gantry rose to lay prone on the snow-white covers.
He exhaled a soft breath.
Chu Yi faintly tilted his head to the other two, a strange smile mysteriously at the corner of his lips, the soft, silky voice as if tapping lightly against their hearts sounded gentle, "Let's go."
It was only two words but inexplicably Chao Bin could feel a building sense of bloodthirst and danger. The faint smell of roses still lingering at the tip of his nose, Chu Yi's red eyes squinted playfully and walked out of the room to face the upcoming play.
Pitter–Patter.
