Throughout the entire process, he said nothing except those two words, his expression serious as if he was conducting an important research that required full concentration, not simply drying a woman’s hair.
Jian Ning felt uncomfortable and couldn’t sit still after a minute: “Qiao Yu, don’t do this, really, I can dry my own hair.”
Qiao Yu looked displeased, and using his height, he raised the hairdryer out of Jian Ning’s reach, impatiently saying: “Can’t you just sit still?”
Jian Ning: “……..No, why are you drying my hair for no reason? Stop playing around, I have to wake up early tomorrow.”
Qiao Yu’s face suddenly darkened: “Who’s playing with you?”
He was clearly doing something seriously, and she didn’t even thank him, looking like his hands were dirty and couldn’t touch her hair. Qiao Yu wanted to smash the hairdryer.
“………”
Fine, dry it if you want!
Jian Ning stopped talking and sat back, calmly waiting for his service.
It was just Qiao Yu drying her hair, and she had previously helped him wipe his face and apply medicine. Consider it a fair exchange; she could handle it.
Come to think of it, apart from at a hair salon or with a hairstylist, she had never enjoyed hair-drying service from anyone else.
Especially from Qiao Yu.
The main personality!
Qiao Yu stood behind her, looking at her coldly.
………Who knows why he couldn’t sleep, and as soon as he heard the hairdryer’s hum, he couldn’t wait to climb out of bed and walk over, taking the dryer and insisting on drying her hair!
Qiao Yu inhaled and exhaled, doing psychological preparation for a long time, until Jian Ning confusedly asked: “Why haven’t you started? My hair is still wet, and I’m getting a bit of a headache.”
Almost without thinking! Qiao Yu immediately started drying her hair.
His movements were precise, the wind temperature perfectly comfortable, and Jian Ning closed her eyes in enjoyment.
She even felt that Qiao Yu’s skills were comparable to hairstylists who had been in the hair care industry for years.
So comfortable.
Jian Ning was extremely enjoying it, while for Qiao Yu… his hand was gentle yet powerful, and his face was as dark as charcoal.
Stifled.
Frustrated.
Uncomfortable.
With a slight bizarre sense of happiness.
