In My Desperate Time

No, I can’t let him see the messages. I rush to grab my phone back from his hand.

He stands on his feet, holding the phone up high. I can’t get it even if I jump to it.

“You have problems. Who sends you the messages?”

He smirks and clicks on my phone screen.

I don’t know what he has seen on my phone, but I do feel nervous. He’s such an emotional person. I really dare not irritate him.

“Give it back! That’s my privacy.”

I say angrily and try to jump to get it but fail in the end.

“Your privacy? Even you are mine! You have no privacy.” he looks at me from head to feet, his eager gaze making my body feel hot and nervous.

Then he turns his eyes to my phone again.

He perhaps hasn’t seen the messages. Anyway, I can’t let him see them.

I’m so afraid he would see the messages, so I jump at him with all my might.

He gasps and frowns.

on my injured

a look at him, finding I’m exactly

move away my body quickly, but still looking

messages, but there is no change of expressions on his indifferent

that I nearly can’t

a message of phone bill

back and sits back, slightly

Mobile Company reminding me that

heart now is at

I don’t like it. If you know I haven’t paid my phone bill, you must think I’m leading a dog’s

sneer at me. I’m not sure

with the apple,

down at the apple and says coldly, “This

eat

is a clear

He says in a deep

Damn it!

So fussy!

with gritted teeth, cutting the apple into pieces on a plate. But I try to feel better by thinking that