Chapter 95

He dragged her into the car, her ears filled with the whistling of the wind. Then he pulled her into the elevator. Until the elevator began to ascend with a scraping sound, her mind was still blank. Their hand-holding posture was odd. He was only holding the tips of the three middle fingers of her left hand. And his warmth, it surged into her from these fingertips, scorching every inch of her nerves. On the bright silver elevator walls, the shadows of the two were reflected. Eliza didn't dare to look at him, her heart pounding like a rapidly beating drum. His finger, at last, began to move upwards from her fingertips, reaching her palm, his finger - soft yet firm - pressed down, causing Eliza to become somewhat afraid. She looked up at him, and for a moment, was taken aback by her own reflection in his eyes. With bright red cheeks, vibrant lips, and a gentle breeze passing between her brows, she hastily pulled her hand out of his, took two small steps back and leant against the elevato