Forbidden Passion

The sandstorm raged all night, with the wind howling outside the window.

Cindy lay on the couch, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She picked up her phone to check the time; it was only 2:30 AM. Getting through the night was proving to be incredibly difficult.

Feeling thirsty, she propped herself up on the couch and saw Patrick, who was curled up in a chair playing on his phone, looking over at her. She cleared her throat.

"You're still awake?"

Patrick put down his phone and stared at her silently for a long time before suddenly sneering, "Some people grind their teeth and fart in their sleep. How am I supposed to sleep?"

Cindy's pretty face turned visibly red. She glared at him, "What nonsense are you talking about? I never grind my teeth or fart in my sleep."

"How would you know what you do when you're asleep?" Patrick crossed his arms, his

tone icy.

Cindy felt a pang of guilt. Could she really be that ungraceful in her sleep?

Avoiding Patrick's gaze, she said uncertainly, "I hold in my farts when I'm awake, let alone when I'm asleep. There's no way I fart in my sleep."

Seeing her earnestly defending herself, Patrick couldn't help but laugh, "Are you an idiot?"

She rushed over and started hitting Patrick with her fists. She was quite strong, and it actually hurt.

At first, Patrick let her vent, but after a few hits, he grabbed her wrists, "Alright, alright, stop being mad."

Cindy struggled a bit but couldn't free her hands.

They were very close. She noticed the red veins in Patrick's eyes and frowned, "You have a shoot tomorrow. Go lie down on the couch for a bit."

The sandstorm had trapped everyone inside the house. With so many people, the upstairs and downstairs were all occupied, so they had to make do for the night.

Patrick had given the couch to Cindy, Ulysses was on the small couch in the dressing room, and Patrick was curled up in a chair, which must have been uncomfortable.

"No need, I'm not sleepy..." Before he could finish, Patrick yawned, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

Cindy mocked him without hesitation, "See, your mouth is wide open, and you say you're not sleepy. Go lie down for a bit. Even if you can't sleep, you can at least rest your eyes."

Patrick was still holding Cindy's wrist, his thumb gently rubbing her pulse point. A tingling sensation shot from her wrist to her tailbone, and Cindy quickly pulled her hand back.

"Uh, you should go."

Patrick was indeed tired but not necessarily able to sleep. He looked at Cindy, got up, and walked over to the couch. The couch still had the residual warmth from Cindy's body.

Patrick lay down on the couch pillow, the familiar scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils. It was light and pleasant, and he couldn't help but bury his face in the pillow.

Cindy grabbed a bottle of mineral water, opened it, and drank more than half. She turned to look out the window; the sandstorm seemed to be subsiding, and she could at least see the streetlights now.

Cindy sat back in the chair, took out her phone, and started a game.

No matter the time, there were always people online. She quickly matched with her teammates, chose her favorite hero, and started battling in the game.

Cindy fought for hundreds of rounds until her neck and eyes were sore. She tossed her phone onto the dressing table.

Rubbing her neck, Cindy looked around aimlessly.

She spent so much time in the dressing room that there wasn't much to see. Her gaze eventually landed on Patrick, who was lying on the couch.

Her eyes swept over Patrick's long legs hanging off the edge. At nearly 6.2 feet tall, he looked cramped on the 5-foot couch.

Cindy got up and walked over, standing by the couch and tentatively calling him, "Patrick, Patrick, are you asleep?"

Patrick lay on the couch with his eyes closed, his eyelids relaxed, and his breathing steady.

He seemed to be sleeping deeply. In the dim light from the dressing table, Cindy could see his features clearly.

A straight nose, thin lips.

His closed eyes gave his face a peaceful and serene look. His long eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks, highlighting the gentle contours of his face.

But when he acted, his eyes were especially sharp.

Cindy studied Patrick's face for a while and couldn't help but remark, "You're quite good-looking. No wonder your fans like you so much. If they knew you were about to quit the industry, they'd probably cry their eyes out."

Patrick was quitting the industry.

She had heard it from Ulysses. Apparently, he was going to inherit his family business after quitting. Thinking about it made her angry, "What a waste of such a good- looking face. It won't be on screen anymore."

Just as she was about to get up and leave, Patrick suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace. She lost her balance and almost fell, but Patrick's hand on her waist steadied her, making her lean against him.

Cindy looked at his eyes, which were now very close to hers, in shock.

Patrick's fingers tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her ear, his voice husky with sleepiness.

"Have you seen enough?"

His voice was low, with a slight upward inflection, teasing and lazy.

Cindy's mind went blank at his question. Thinking about how she had been staring at him, her cheeks turned red.

The room was cold, and Cindy was lightly dressed. Her legs, through the thin fabric, brushed against Patrick's firm body, and his strong fingers gripped her waist.

They stared at each other, and inappropriate thoughts filled her mind. This position made her think of all the intimate moments they could share.

Her ears grew hot, and she struggled to get off Patrick. "I-I'm thirsty. I need to get some water," she stammered.noveldrama

Patrick's grip on her waist tightened, his long, strong fingers holding her in place. His eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of displeasure in his deep eyes.

"Cindy, tell me, what were you thinking?"

Cindy's face turned red with embarrassment, her eyes darting around as she tried to act calm, "I wasn't thinking anything. Don't worry, I have no desires for your face anymore."

Patrick squinted, "No desires for my face, but what about my eyes?"

With that, the temperature in the dressing room seemed to drop several degrees. Cindy shivered, "Why do you hold grudges like this?"

Patrick sat up, making her sit on his lap. This position was even more awkward.

Cindy's face turned red, and she struggled to get off him, but his arms were like a vice around her waist, giving her no chance to escape.

"Cindy, I've never hated anyone as much as I hate you," Patrick whispered in her ear.