The traces inside were clear as day.
Landon Lockwood's eyes clouded, his Adam's apple moved slightly, and his fingers unconsciously tightened.
A surge of heat rushed to his head, and his rationality almost collapsed in an instant.
Just as Julian West heard a familiar voice and was about to turn around to greet them.
Landon Lockwood suddenly stood up, grabbed the shawl on the sofa, and quickly walked over, directly draping the soft fabric firmly over her shoulders.
His brows furrowed slightly, his voice was low, yet carried a clear reproach.
"Running out with your hair so wet, don't come crying about a headache later when you catch a cold!"
Every word seemed to be squeezed out from deep within his chest, his tone stern.
Julian West just turned around and saw the two of them standing so close, close enough to feel each other's warmth in their breaths.
Their posture was intimately inappropriate, one wearing his shirt, the other adjusting her collar.
