CHAPTER 38: OLD TALE: SERVE
That single drop of sweat was tickling his skin as it climbed down from his forehead. Plim's lips are quietly trembling, body unmoving as he felt that the person behind was way bigger and hard as a rock, pinning him down at the table as they both stood against each other. His hand was shaking, vibrating the plate that he was holding as he felt that the person behind moved closer to sniff his bare neck. He flinched when he felt that man's nose touch his skin, sniffing it like a dog finding its treasured bone. Plim knew that the person is just one of the people inside, one of the beauties of...the general himself but he clearly know it couldn't be a beauty but he also refuse to believe that it was the latter. The room was filled with silence only the tickle of the candles can be heard
- Writer
