Love Began with the First Meeting

Chapter 189 Danger, The Flying Bullet (Part One)

It was early in the morning. The beginning of a dim and gloomy day.

The skies of A city were shadowed by layers of dark clouds.

The morning sun, faintly and desperately trying to shine through the dark blanket of grayness, was now gleaming dimly, its rays weakly touching the face of the earth. It was a hopeless wrestle between the sun and clouds, with the sun seeming to have consumed most of its energy overcoming the clouds and now powerless and exhausted.

Molly was still in her bed. After a night of lazy sleep, she was now beginning to wake up. As a habit, she first wrinkled her brows slightly and then opened her mouth and made some unidentifiable sleepy voice, then drew out her hands from under the quilt and rubbed her sloppy, still-sleepy eyes. After all this series of slothful actions, her eyes gradually opened. However, to her astonishment, the moment her eyes got used to her surroundings, her blood started pumping quickly and was completely awoken at the sight in front of her...

'It is an illusion, just an illusion, nothing more! I must be dreaming!'

awake from "The Dream". But every time as she opened her eyes again, she saw the exquisite, well-shaped face, with eyes still closed and sleeping peacefully next to her. She was completely taken aback. As much as

just lay there and watched her in faint amusement with

long after, suddenly recovering from her trance, Molly sprung up from her bed and instinctively sunk her head to check her body under the quilt. A wave of relief came over her when she made sure that she was wearing pajamas. Then she raised her head and asked sullenly at Brian,"What are you doing, sleeping here in

What is so strange about me being in my house with my girl?" Brian asked in a satirical voice, raising his eyebrow. His eyes went deeper and his lashes flickered as he spoke to Molly. Sensing that Molly was irritated and embarrassed

He was so infuriated that he even had a sudden impulse to strangle her when she complained and threatened to leave him. But the moment he seized her by the throat out of fury and pushed her against the wall, he heard her called out "Bri". Although the sound was vague and weak, it was strong enough for him to feel a sense

way Molly slept fascinated him a greater deal. To him, she looked like a little girl who was still in the habit of sucking her thumb and murmuring something vague in her dream, and tending

him more and more. At length, he gradually felt tired and gave in to the inviting softness of the bed

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