Mia Grant's hand trembled, and she nearly dropped the object she was holding.
Fortunately, the man's hand gently wrapped around hers, helping her close her palm around it.
His lips parted from hers. He pulled back slightly, his gaze clear as he looked down at her. His eyes were like a mountain spring just thawed in early spring—crystal clear, yet still laced with a lingering chill.
Mia Grant swallowed nervously, staring up at him in a daze, unsure how to react.
The object felt heavy in her hand, a weight that sent a tremor through her heart.
It was as if in the next second, she would fall into a deep abyss, a hell from which she could never return.
But the figure before her stubbornly, tirelessly pulled her back, time and time again.
"I…"
She had never touched anything like this before; she had only ever seen one on TV.
Growing up, she had never even held a toy gun.
Her finger accidentally brushed against the trigger, and she almost cried out in shock.
