Chapter 8 The Witch

• Keira's stomach rumbled. Her hair was damp with sweat, clinging to her collarbone, forehead, and cheeks. She realized she had been too reckless. It turned out that the advice from the online video was true. One should not mess with men in the morning.
• "Torry, are you... not going to the... office today?" Keira tightly gripped the bedsheet, feeling like a small boat drifting on the sea, swaying with the waves.
• "No." A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. It felt scalding hot as it landed on her skin.