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

and take a look at him, finding I’m exactly on his wounded

move away my body quickly, but still

my messages, but there is no change of

so nervous that I

of phone bill

gives my phone back and sits back, slightly curling

It’s a message from Mobile Company reminding me that it’s

goodness my heart

check my phone, even though it is a phone bill message. I don’t like it. If you know I haven’t paid

light sneer at me.

done with the apple, handing it

the apple and says coldly, “This is the apple

eat with sugar

a clear twitch

it into small pieces.” He says

Damn it!

So fussy!

into pieces on a plate. But I try to feel better by thinking that the apple under my knife is