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... that he would have dirty thoughts about me.

I couldn’t even think of a response.

Yeah.

This was an awkward situation where I couldn’t agree to the words he said, nor could I pretend to be shocked and ask whether he was crazy or not.

So, instead of answering, I just got up from his thighs.

“Phew, it’s kinda hot here, don’t you think so?”

I said those words while walking towards the closet. Just like mine, Oppa’s face was also red like a ripe tomato. ...

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“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

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……………………………………………………………

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