The breakfast was held in a tense yet joyful atmosphere.
In the past, they could have breakfast quietly, but not today. As their seats were very close, the little girl would always be attracted by Martin Lin's hand that he would put under the table from time to time. It was not that she had awakened to the habit of holding hands, but she was just afraid that if she didn't hold hands this time, she didn't know when she would have to wait for the next time.
Finally, when she could drink milk with one hand, she also reached her little hand under the table, slowly crawled into the other person's hand, and held his hand shamelessly.
Neither of them spoke, just enjoying the warmth from each other's palms.
The girl's hands were icy cold, but after being held tightly in his hands, they soon became the same temperature as his.
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