"Thank you." Valentine's heart was pounding.
In the dark of night, the room was so quiet that only their breathing and each other's heartbeat could be heard.
Mark held a phone in one hand for light, while his other hand naturally clasped Valentine's hand, guiding her carefully upstairs.
He took each step slowly and cautiously, repeatedly reminding Valentine to watch her step.
Mark's hand was warm, sending a continuous flow of heat through to Valentine, whose palm was sweaty, and her face blushing uncontrollably.
It was just twenty floors of stairs, yet they took a long time to ascend.
No one spoke; they kept their pace synchronized in mutual understanding.
At the entrance of Valentine's room, Mark didn't leave immediately.
He released her hand, gentlemanly opened the door for her, his voice gentle with a touch of lingering: "If you're scared, just call me."
