This little shit. I glared disapprovingly at the door through which the madman had exited, grumbling silently. I wanted to shout, 'You know I still have enough strength to come after you,' but I swallowed my frustration when the reality of the situation hit me. I didn't have much of a choice. Just getting out of bed was a painful ordeal, and every inch of my body seemed to be aching, not just my back.
No, that punk was older than me, so why was he so energetic? My pride was hurt. I clenched my teeth, pushed myself up from the bed, and glanced around the room in search of my clothes. I could hear him in the living room, ordering room service from the hotel phone – it sounded like he was requesting a two-course meal.
People are truly funny. Just a moment ago, I was agonizing over not being able to die, and now I felt hunger at the mere mention of a "meal." It was as the guy had said. I found myself pondering when that meal would arrive, as if nothing had happened, as if the pain had never occurred.
'That's what being alive is like.'
I managed to locate my pants and put them on, pushing aside the resurfacing voice of the madman. As I pulled my T-shirt over my head, a gruff voice halted me.
"What are you doing?"
I lowered my T-shirt just below my chest and turned back toward the doorway with a perplexed expression.
"What? I'm clearly putting on clothes."
"That's right. But why are you putting on clothes when you don't need to?"
He repeated his question in a gentle tone, a smile playing on his lips. But I would never be fooled by his voice; his eyes were too intense for that. Normally, I would have glared back and retorted, but this time I was utterly perplexed, so I simply furrowed my brow.
"I would be naked, then? Huh? What are you doing...?"
The lunatic approached quickly and suddenly grabbed the T-shirt. He began to pull it over my head.
"Because it's a hassle, I'll help you take it off. Don't worry."
What nonsense was this?
"Let go!"
I pushed him away in defiance, but I couldn't stop the T-shirt from being pulled up over my head in the process. In that brief moment, I was catching my breath after trying to resist him, but he effortlessly obtained my T-shirt and looked down at me with a nonchalant expression. What the hell did this guy eat to be so strong? Damn, did he overdose on tonics?
However, I couldn't delve deeper into the effectiveness of those tonics. His gaze was on my pants. My neck felt cold. It was clear that he had intentions to take off my pants too. Without hesitation, he went ahead with it. I freaked out, stumbled backward onto the bed, and shouted.
"Don't do it! I'll take my pants off myself."
"Okay."
He casually said and stepped back. I was taken aback because he backed off too easily. Then, belatedly, regret hit me. Damn, do I really have to take off my pants? As I hesitated, he asked me.
"Can you take them off for me?"
"Do you really need to see me completely bare?"
Annoyance outweighed any embarrassment. He simply looked at me, smiled, and rolled his eyes.
"Are you embarrassed?"
"I'm not a lunatic like you, so I wear clothes."
"Then put on a robe."
