He liked this feeling very much; he liked how his scent was on every spot of her body.
Gradually, he did not really want to stop only at a kiss.
In the days at the hospital, he did not once touch her in consideration of her injury. Even their kisses were mere pecks on the lips, and that was it.
It had been a few days since they had not had any intimate contact; he missed her body a little.
As the man kissed his woman, he tentatively held her hand and led it to a certain place that he had been eyeing on, as if sending her some sort of secret signal.
The fiery touch from the fingertips was so clear even through the fabric.
She opened her eyes in shock, only to look into that pair of deep-set eyes of his.
There was undisguised lust in his eyes.
She blushed, neither knowing what to say about him nor knowing what exactly was contained in his mind.
They just got off the plane, but he was…
How exuberant was his vitality?
"Besides this, can you think of something else?"
He answered, "No."
How confident could this guy get?!
The two adults were startled to hear Little Yichen's worried voice from the stairs and rushed over at once.
As they arrived at the second floor, they saw the boy standing on the stairs with Youyou in his arms. He looked everywhere as sweat trickled from his forehead. His face frantic and strained. Upon seeing their arrival, his voice carried a restless crying tone.
"Mommy, little brother, he… I don't know what's wrong with him, but he looks as if he's having difficulty breathing!"
He was embracing his younger brother ever carefully. The older twin was slightly taller than the younger twin by a head. In his arms, the younger of the two boys looked tiny and light. It was as if a passing breeze could blow him away.
She was shocked to see Youyou curled up with his hands tightly covering his chest. From the way he labored for breath and how unusually flushed his face was, he seemed to be on the verge of suffocating.
Big drops of sweat glided down his face and dripped on to his older brother's arms.
The older kid angled his face toward the younger lad's pain-filled one. His guilt intensified and his fear grew at the sight. Anytime now, he might cry.
Youyou feebly cried out for help. His words were not said aloud; right now, he could only take in mouthful of breaths and was unable to form a complete sentence.
Mu Yazhe frowned. This was his first time seeing the child have a relapse.
It was too painful a sight.
Normal people would find it hard to imagine this pain.
It must unbearable being unable to breathe!
He jerked his head abruptly. Suddenly recalling that day when the boy was at the hospital, the doctor said then, "This child's physical condition is dire because of his premature birth. Adding the insufficient nutrients he absorbed from his mother, the state of his body is feeble. The best solution is for him to undergo surgery, but since he's still too young, it will be very risky, which is why it's not recommended. In the meantime, we can only use medication to stabilize his condition."
Hyperventilation was the physiological response to acute anxiety. During an attack, the patient would have accelerated heartbeats, erratic palpitations, and profuse sweating.
The patient would have difficulty breathing, a gradual increment in their breathing rate, resulting in low carbon dioxide concentrations as they were constantly being released. It would cause respiratory alkalosis and other symptoms, too.
If the condition was rather solemn, it could lead to paralysis of the limbs and even shock.